Iltherian's Sword
by ladyharmonixer
Summary: An unsuspecting band of adventurers unleash a dark menace into the lands of Iris.
1. Prologue

Iltherian's Sword - Prologue

_Curse them, it cannot be._

A dark figure lay on the floor of an even darker room. It rolled and gibbered, pounded on and bit at the floor. It didn't care what it looked like, so sunk in despair and fury was it. It indulged in, reveled in its tantrum not caring if anything or anyone might stumble upon it. Indeed, it would have destroyed them to appease the violent emotions crashing through it at the moment.

For long moments it ranted, but eventually its movements eased and eventually stopped. It lay, its breathing harsh, its muscles rigid, hands clawlike gripping at the floor. After a few more minutes, the harsh breath subsiding and eventually it pushed itself wearily from the floor.

A low, catlike growl escaped from it and its eyes glimmered with a feverish light even in the shadows, _Curse them, send them to the dark depths_.

_This will not be the end. I will not allow it to end this way. I will make them pay; will make the entire world pay for this infernal outrage._

The figure rose from the ground, walking across the room, reaching out, fingers closing over the hilt of a sword. There was a flash, like a spark, and it jerked back, hissing angrily staring intently at the scorched, smoking flesh of its fingers.

_But the one who will suffer the most...suffer the last, is that fiend Iltherian. I will make him watch as I destroy everything, everyone he loves. I will make him watch as they suffer and die and laugh when he realizes there is nothing he can do to help...And when he finally realizes that, that is when he will die..._

_They will all pay..._


	2. Chapter 01

Iltherian's Sword - 02 - Chapter 01

The sun was setting over the Dratan desert in a red blaze and the heat wasn't pressing down on the world as it had been just an hour before. The sunset painted the darkening sky shades of magenta, indigo and violet.

Perytas loved this time of day. Whenever she found herself in Dratan she always made a point of finding a quiet shady spot so she could watch the sunset and watch the stars ignite one by one in the high, clear sky. She always stayed out until the cold drove her inside. She found that no matter how gritty, tired or painful she felt, the ritual of watching the sunset always lightened whatever the burden she was carrying.

The desert of Dratan fascinated her. Oceans of sand and rock as far as the eye could see, with the colors muting into one another, but then topping a rise down below an oasis might spread a carpet of greens and blues dotted with brilliant pinks and yellows and reds of desert flowers. And then there was the searing heat which bled away during the night so that you were shivering, freezing and cursing yourself if you hadn't had the foresight to build a campfire earlier in the night or if you were so foolish as not to bring blankets with you.

So there she was, sitting in the shade watching the sunset, and keeping a wary eye on the harpies that congregated outside of the western gate, when she noticed a figure running pell-mell for the gate. Following the figure, both airborne and earthbound, were a number of desert creatures that Perytas had learned through painful experience weren't to be tangled with in a party much less alone. Which the person who they were chasing was apparently quite foolish enough to do.

In either case, it was now too dangerous to stay where she was. She sighed, pulling her hood back on, drawing her mask in place over her mouth and stood up, her blades sliding from their sheathes with a whisper. She angled her path to intercept the running figure.

The pelting figure in question was a young woman she knew casually who went by the name Dalinna. She noticed Perytas and called out an incongruously cheerful greeting, "Good eventide, Perytas."

"What's so good about it?" In spite of the situation, Perytas grinned sharply at Dalinna. She turned, running backwards a few paces to see what was chasing her clearly and nearly stumbled as she really looked at one of their airborne pursuers. She righted herself and restrained herself with some difficulty from lengthening her stride and pouring on the speed, "Ye gods, Dal, what did you do to irk her?"

Dalinna glanced back at the dark figure flapping almost languidly behind them, grinning ruefully now, "Nothing directly. She appeared suddenly while I was dispatching a desert spider and she took exception to it. Rather violently, I might add."

A claw bit painfully into Perytas's left shoulder, and she cursed. She reversed her grip on her blade and stabbed up over head, and smiled in grim satisfaction at the pained shriek and suddenly she was free.

She looked at her friend, "I think we'd best put a little distance between us and them."

Dalinna nodded and flipped something over to her. She snagged it out of the air; a quick look told her what it was. She uncorked the bottle and drained it with a single pull, her face contorting at the acrid taste. A moment later she felt the effect of the draught sear through her veins.

The next instant the world seemed to blur as it slowed down and she sped up. And she and Dalinna raced to the Western gate of Dratan. They raced towards the gate and started shouting as soon as they saw the guards at the gates.

The guards might not understand what they were shouting but neither were they blind. Once they got a good look at what was chasing them, they sprang into action. One of them ran back through the massive gate, shouting to either side and grabbing a chain from the left side and hooked it onto one of the large iron rings set into the huge gate door. He glanced to the right to make sure the same was happening there. He raced past the guards who where driving the mammoth draft horses into shutting the gates, up the steps, shouting an alarm to the archers stationed at the top of the wall. He saw them racing into position, and deviated to the large alarm bell and began ringing it frantically. Soon the alarm was being taken up by the other guard stations.

The guard raced to the arrow slit in the room, peering out and fitting an arrow to his massive bow. He carefully sighted, held his breath an instant and loosed the arrow. The bowstring thrummed as a harpy queen shrieked her death cry, plowing into the ground sending up a great plume of sand. He didn't bother with any of the earthbound creatures, though the snakewomen and the giant salamanders were frightening enough, but they were easily deterred by the gates. But the winged ones, the harpies and harpy queens couldn't be kept out by a mere gate or wall. Normally they didn't come near the town, having learned that to enter the town was to die. But now there was a great flight of them-more than he'd ever seen gathered at once-they were just crazed enough to do just that.

Perytas and Dalinna gained the gate, sprinting through the narrow opening in the gate, while the second guard covered them with a barrage of arrows. He continued firing until he was through the gate himself, firing one last arrow and knocking a harpy queen from the air just as the horses harnessed to the gates banged them shut.

A few seconds later a flight of shrieking shadows flew over the wall, the archers on the wall doing their best to bring down as many harpies as they could. The rest of them descended on the hapless denizens of the town. Merchants and ordinary citizens ducked and scurried in all directions seeking shelter in shops, basically any place with a door and four solid walls. Anyone who could handle a weapon raced from where they were toward the rapidly descending flock. A flock that seemed to have multiplied in number, as there were literally hundreds of harpies now swooping through the streets.

Perytas and Dalinna both downed more haste potion before turning on the harpies that were chasing them. Dalinna was a stronger fighter than Perytas and her Hawk Strike knocked her harpy into the walkway. It took a few extra strikes for Perytas's harpy to sink to earth.

She whirled as a harpy queen's talons raked through her leather shirt, laying open four red stripes. She yelled in pain and fury as taloned claws clamped down cruelly on her arms, the tips piercing her leather shirt and skin underneath, the harpy shrieking in Perytas's face and its fetid breath choking her. She snarled and kicked out at the harpy queen, rather ineffectually as it turned out, the knowledge twisting the monster's face into a cruel sneer and infuriating Perytas further. She curled into a ball and kicked out, slamming her feet into the harpy queen's chest. Unfortunately, this only made the claws tighten even more painfully in her. Perytas continued kicking the harpy queen in her chest, snarling angrily, "Will-" kick, "-you-" kick-kick, "-let-" kick, "go?"

Abruptly, the harpy stiffened, its face going slack. It sank to the ground and Perytas regained her feet. As the harpy continued sinking, she realized the harpy queen was sliding off the blade of a longsword held by a knight. He smiled slightly as their eyes met, and then he spun slicing a small harpy arrowing straight for his back in two. She blinked at his back before diving to the ground to avoid a dive-bombing harpy.

She leapt up and raced after it, driving her blade into its back, stabbing it repeatedly, viciously, finally giving a final savage twist. The harpy shrieked weakly sinking to the ground.

A movement out of the corner of her eye made her roll off its back, casting a snare and freezing two harpies and a queen harpy in midair. She jumped onto the queen harpy's back, wrapping her legs around its waist, driving the blade hilt-deep into its neck, forcing the blade out the front of its neck. It let out a horrible liquid burbling sound as it thrashed in midair, trapped in Perytas's snare, its lifeblood pumping from it.

She dispatched the other two harpies with similar efficiency. She looked around her, orienting herself in the chaos of battle. She moved through the battle, alternating between her blades and her crossbow, engaging harpies when directly confronted by them, or lending a blade to those who were being overwhelmed by sheer numbers or when they simply weren't strong enough, or simply lending a helping hand with potions.

She had just done that, making sure the knight she'd helped had taken a health potion, when a huge winged form cast a deep shadow on her. She looked up and a cold chill raced down her spine.

Grand Devilroad Kamira.

This was the monster that called more than a hundred harpies down on Dratan, drove landbound monster when they normally would've broken off the chase. A womanlike form but one that drew shadows to it like a magnet. She was turning this way and that, as though she were looking for something.

Or someone.

And she knew exactly who it was looking for. It found her at the exact moment Perytas realized who it was after. It was after Dalinna. Who was not far away, standing over a cowering woman and her child and doing a rather good job of holding off two harpies and a harpy queen with her flashing, glowing blades.

So focused was her attention on them, she had none left to spare for a large, dark form out of her reach. But the Kamira had eyes only for her. Anyone else was merely an irritant to it. The Kamira's progress was slow, hindered by the warriors who threw themselves in her path, to be flicked away by her powers, like an ant found crawling along a sleeve. None of the warriors here were equal to her in strength or power. While their numbers may be more than enough to bring her down eventually, it wouldn't be before she got to her intended target, and certainly not before she killed her.

Something Perytas wasn't going to let happen. Because Dalinna was quite possibly her only friend. A thing that Perytas was now finding an infinitely precious thing.

She threw herself at the Kamira. A titan blocked her way, and she literally ran right up the surprised warrior, using his bulging thigh, arm and shoulder as stepping stones, launching herself into the air and onto the Kamira's back. She screamed Dalinna's name in warning as she drove her blade at the Kamira's back.

The Kamira, quite unprepared for her unexpected passenger, froze a moment. Then she let out a shriek of outrage at the impertinence of this creature who dared lay a hand upon her. The blade driven repeatedly at her back didn't concern her, since its wielder didn't have the strength to do more than prick her. No, it was more indignant at the weight on her back.

The Kamira shrieked once more in anger, reaching a long arm over her shoulder. Grasping a handful of Perytas's shirt, the young rogue was yanked off and over the Kamira's back and flung to the hard cobblestones of the city street.

Perytas's head hit the stones, stars bursting in front of her eyes, like the fireworks the Moon Stone statues shot out when they awarded their prizes. And when the stars died down, darkness closed in. Dimly, she saw the Kamira fix her with a wrathful gaze and point in her direction.

She saw a flash and then blackness and she knew no more.


	3. Chapter 02

Iltherian's Sword - Part 02

"I DID NOT provoke her on purpose," Dalinna's voice was the first Perytas heard as she came to. She didn't sound all that happy, either, "I was there gathering spider venom for the healer in Randol. Nothing untoward. I had gathered all that I needed and my attention had wandered, when I was attacked by a red spider. I had almost defeated it when I realized that the Kamira had appeared. And that she had become most perturbed that I was killing a monster right under her nose. A good thing that I was able to dodge behind the spider just as she attacked. I think that was why she chased me so far; I had made her kill the spider with her attack," there was a short silence, then a pained yelp, "Ouch! Stop that, Shar. 'Tis only a scratch. You have a patient there; go help Pery."

A warm chuckle sounded and Pery opened her eyes to see Dalinna glaring at the healer tending her, "Be still, Dal. Pery has been healed and by a much better healer than I. Sit still and let me finish. The scratch is deep and might become infected if it is not attended. Foolish girl that you are, you would ignore it until long after it becomes infected and you collapse from fever."

Dal's glare fulminated, "I am not as foolish as you say. I have had worse and they healed just fine."

"You forget how well I know you," the healer chuckled again and shifted, searching in her workbag for something and Pery recognized Lady Sharina, a seemingly-delicate healer in Dal's guild.

Her vision exploded with sparkles. After a moment she realized that she hadn't been hit in the head again. She blinked, clearing her vision, and her odd, frosty colored green eyes focused on the tiny form hovering in front of her face, peering at her just as intently.

"Verron worries for you," a deep voice rumbled under her ear and she realized she was reclining not against a brick wall but a person. She tipped her head back and met the faintly amused gaze of the knight who'd helped her before.

Up close and personal, she was struck by his looks. Not precisely handsome as sin, but in Pery's opinion, close enough. Strong features with a aquiline nose which had only been improved by being broken a time or two. Eyes as intensely blue as a lightning bolt twinkled warmly down at her, framed by eyelashes that any woman would kill to have. His lips stretched into a smile, revealing dimples, and Pery was reflected that it wasn't fair that he was also armed with such devastating weapons. His hair was pulled back from his face and she remembered its was shining black, straight and long, flowing behind him like a tail.

"Really?" She was surprised at how faint her voice was, as she lifted her hand. The sprite landed daintily on a fingertip. Verron rose into the air as her hand dropped and she felt she couldn't move another inch. She gave a tired sigh, "Oh."

Shar had caught the movement and after watching Pery for a moment said, "Master, looks like she has come around."

A shadow fell upon her, and she looked up to find one of Dratan's Master Healers kneeling over her, "Ah so she is. Hold still, my dear," he put a hand to her head and closed his eyes. After a mysterious moment, he opened his eyes and smiled at her, "Well, looks like she will make a full recovery. You just need rest."

"Why am I so weak?" She was shocked at the faintness of her voice.

"Because most of the effort of healing comes from the patient, not the healer," Lady Shar spoke, coming over to kneel next to her. "We just direct your body to do what it has to and encourages it to hurry," she looked at the knight. "Come, she will be staying at our guildhall tonight."

He nodded, ignominiously hoisting Pery up, rather like a large sack of potatoes. He followed Shar and Dal, as they walked to a large, rather squat building. Large as it was, most people couldn't believe that this building could house all the members of the guildhall. It could, because, as with most buildings in Dratan, a goodly portion of the rooms were built down, into to the ground. Of course, it didn't normally house all the members of the guild; since guild members were scattered across all the known countries of Iris. There was a guildhall in the capitols of all the countries, of course not nearly as large as this one and the one in Randol. Most of the members found it convenient to use them as their base of operations while on whichever country they happened to be in.

Pery stirred as they entered the cavernous entry hall, making a little sound that drew both Shar's and the knight's attention. A slight frown marred the elven healer's face, "Something wrong?"

"Please," Pery cursed her weak voice––it made her sound was if she were pleading, "not underground."

It wasn't that she had any particular fears of being underground. Nor was she afraid of being buried or closed in. No, her fears were more of not being able to escape. Of begin trapped and unable to run. Or more accurately, of being caged–in any sense of the word.

Shar's brow cleared and she smiled, "Of course. This way."

She led them upstairs, to a corner room that was austerely furnished with a bed, wardrobe, and washstand. The knight laid Pery on the bed and stepped back while Dal and Shar converged on the bed. When Shar reached for Pery's mask when Dal stopped her by placing a hand on her wrist. There was a moment of silence until the knight realized Dal was glaring at him. His eyebrows climbed in inquiry until Dal asked, "Are you going to wait around until we undress her completely?"

Now Shar was glaring at him and he grinned, stifling his laughter, and threw up his hands in the air and beat a hasty retreat when Dal took a step towards him. Pery read in his face the sense that he might've done just that had they not chased him away.

Dal and Shar glared after him then looked at each other, shaking their heads in exasperation, "Men. Honestly."

Pery started laughing weakly.

The monsters had long since been driven away from the wall, and the gates thrown open once again. Night had fallen and the stars Pery loved watching had all ignited and were winking brightly in the sky like diamonds strewn over soft, dark velvet. A solitary figure could be seen striding through the gates of the city; moving not with the caution of someone afraid of any lurking monsters, but of one who knew that they could deal with any monster.

That figure moved a certain distance from the city before stopping and crouching down and laying a hand on the sand. To the casual observer, it might have seemed the figure had become a part of the landscape, just another part of the landscape, so still it had become.

But not to the keen eyes which had been watching the figure for some time now. And now another figure walked from the town, following in the barely there footprints left in the sand by the first. It stopped, a horse-length from the first, waiting politely to be acknowledged. After a moment it came, a subtle thing, a slight shifting of weight merely, something easily missed in the darkness of night, but not by the waiting one.

"Something troubles you, Master," Gaevin Silverlocks had meant it to be a question, but it came out much more certain.

"Aye, Apprentice, something troubles me," the Master Sorcerer, Lord Therion, answered, forgetting, as he always did, that Gaevin was no longer his apprentice. "The attack earlier, something does not ring true."

Gaevin was silent. It was something that had troubled him as well.

Few creatures that dwelled in Dratan were passive creatures. Here in this harsh clime, all creatures struggled for survival. Here eat-or-be-eaten was the order of the day. But still, even here, the attack on Dratan was unusual. It was too well-fortified, too well-guarded.

"It troubles me," the Master continued, musing, "that the Kamira would be so aggressive. Of all the monsters who dwell here, the Kamira is the one who is closest to, if not equaling, our intelligence, and begrudges our interference with the creatures who dwell in this land. But still...she only attacks when attacked, or if you attack certain creatures in her presence. And if you outrun her, even she will break off pursuit after a time.

"So why," he mused further, not really speaking to his former apprentice, but trying to work things out in his head. "Why would she chase that child all the way from the desert to the town, the heart of town, and whip the other creatures to do the same?"

"Can you feel it, Apprentice? In the air, in the land..."

"Yes," Gaevin lifted his face, closing his eyes, allowing his consciousness to expand beyond his body, feeling the rhythms of the world. "Something waits..."

"Aye, something waits," the Master stood, turning to make his way back to the town. "And somehow, I fear whatever waits bodes ill for us all..."

A shaft of sunlight falling on her face woke Pery from the first deep sleep she'd had since before she could remember. Even in her half-awake state, she frowned wondering if she'd left the wind open the night before.

No...she'd been too weak from her healing to even lift her arm. She hadn't even been able to support Verron the sprite on her fingertips. So that meant that someone else had opened the window.

Not the night before, either. Dratan's desert temperatures dropped considerably at night, could in fact, drop to near freezing, so anyone who spent any kind of time in the place didn't leave doors or windows open at night.

So that meant...

She shot straight into wakefulness, rolling out of bed, away from the presence she now sensed next to the bed. She cast about, cursing, looking for her blades and not at first seeing them. And in her frantic attempt to locate them, her eyes zeroed in on the dark figure sitting in a chair next to the bed.

A figure that now chuckled warmly, "Easy now, Pery. I mean you no harm and that's a fact."

Pertyas scowled, peering at the seated figure. Now she realized who it was. The leader of Dal's guild. A rather mysterious figure of a woman, with her hooded and masked face, BloodRaven was seated at her ease, legs crossed, leaning an elbow on the armrest and her other hooked over the back of the chair. Pery hoped she cut as mysterious figure when she was hooded and masked, but she sincerely doubted it. The woman seated before her exuded an air that she knew she'd never achieve in her entire life.

"If it makes you feel any better," BloodRaven's voice was amused as she pointed to a table, "your daggers are over there."

Pery scowled, feeling naked without her mask. Her scowl deepened when a breeze blew through the window, skimming across her bare skin. She gasped and snatch up the blanket, wrapping it around her, her face flushing red as a beet root.

"Easy there," BloodRaven chuckled richly, "we're all women here."

At the mention of we, Pery scanned the room and found the silent, still figure of another KnightHawk, in the alcove of the doorway, leaning in a seemingly casual way against the door and more conveniently completely blocking the view––and hearing––of anyone who might be at the keyhole. She'd never met this one before, had seen her though, speaking with Dal from time to time, a woman when went by the name of SilentShadow.

"Still," Pery spoke, turning her attention from the young woman standing in the shadows of the doorway, "I'd feel a little better if I were dressed. Excuse me a moment."

When at last she was dressed she sat down on the still-disheveled bed to hear what the other woman had to say.

BloodRaven reached out and took Pery's chin in her hand. Pery fought the urge to pulled free from the grasp. On the whole, she didn't like anyone touching her––even in as gentle a grip as BloodRaven had––without her permission. It wasn't something other people understood and generally Pery never let anyone close enough to even attempt it. Still, there was something about BloodRaven, a certain charisma, that kept Pery from pulling away and allowing the other woman to finish her examination. There was something in the woman's dark gaze that made her feel as if it wasn't a normal scrutiny she was being put under. She felt as if it were some sort of test the woman conducting, and if she pulled away she'd fail the test.

"Ah, such a pretty young face," she couldn't see BloodRaven's face, but she knew the woman smiled, she could hear it in the woman's voice. "The entire town is positively buzzing about you, you know. That was quite a brave thing you did, throwing yourself upon the Kamira like that."

"Brave? Or stupid?" Pery snorted, somewhat relieved when the other woman released her grip.

"Perhaps a little of both," BloodRaven laughed, resuming her seat in the chair. "Let me tell you a little tale..."

So Pery sat as BloodRaven told her what happened after she'd been incapacitated. She found she'd been extremely lucky. She had taken most of the brunt of the Kamira's fury, but not all of it. If she had, she wouldn't be sitting there listening to the tale.

And she now had cause to owe a deep debt to the knight––BloodRaven supplied is name, Sir Dedrick of RedGables––who had carried her to the guildhall. He had, as foolishly as she, thrown himself into the path of the Kamira's attack. He hadn't reached her before she was hit, but had thrown himself over her during the midst of the blow. It turned out his shield and armor were all magically, heavily enhanced. Even so, the shield and some of his armor had disintegrated during the onslaught.

He might've been killed with the Kamira's next blow had Dratan's Masters not come boiling out of the guild halls, like lava from a volcano. The air bristled with arrows and flying axes. The stink of magic filled the air and still-glowing ashes were blown about by the wind. And the flash and glint of blades finished the last of the monsters.

There came, as the last of the lesser monsters fell, a sharp war-cry ripped from a female throat and a burst of light. Two arrows flew from the great ash bow of the Archer Master, Lady Ferra, streaking in two great arcs towards the Kamira. The Kamira's death cry, as she was pierced by the two arrows, was a terrible assault on the ears and had caused the hairs on the nape of BloodRaven's neck to rise and her skin to erupt with chill bumps.

"Lady Sharina had gotten to the both of you first," BloodRaven smiled through her mask. "Sir Dedrick was hurt, but he wasn't in any immediate danger of dying. You, however...You had died."

Those three baldly spoken word raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She had died. Unconsciously she put her hand to her chest, as if to reassure herself that her heart was still throbbing strongly in her chest. Both BloodRaven and SilentShadow noted this small gesture but didn't comment on it.

"Not that it stopped her from trying to resurrect you," there was a kind of fierce pride in BloodRaven's voice as she told of how Shar had kept casting her resurrect spell over and over without success. Her power wasn't sufficient to restart Pery's heart, wasn't even sufficient to actually resurrect anyone, "In the end, although she couldn't pull you back, it was enough to hold your spirit in your body until the Master Healer could do the job."

"It was the Kamira's thrall that kept the monsters here, as it turns out," SilentShadow spoke from her place in the doorway, her voice light and lyrical in marked contrast to her leader's dark, smoky voice. "Once it died, the monsters that were still beating at the walls to get in stopped and began wandering about as if nothing happened. We let them kill each other for a little while before the Royal Guard sent units out to drive them away from the town."

"So now everyone has heard of the two of you, you and Dedrick," BloodRaven took up the narrative again. "How you tried to save your friend Dal and how Sir Dedrick acted with the typical bravery of a knight and tried to save you––did save you––from the Kamira's fury," her voice was laced with amusement now. "You're hailed as heroes."

"Oh, terrific," Pery shook her head. "That's the last thing I need."

BloodRaven laughed at the girl's chagrin, "Well, now the question is, what are we to do with you?"

"What you're to do with me?" Pery's eyebrows rose, her expression slightly disbelieving. "There's nothing for you to do with me at all. I think I can take care of myself from here on out, thank you so very much."

BloodRaven laughed, not at all offended, and leaned back against the chair, "I take it then that an offer to join the KnightHawks will be rejected?"

"I'm flattered," Pertyas sat back, mollified by the other woman's tone, "but I think that I'd prefer to remain unaffiliated for the time being."

"Very well," BloodRaven smiled through her mask again. "But know that the offer to join the KnightHawks remains open if you're ever inclined to join. You'll be welcome in the guildhall in either case from here on out. We'll leave you now; I'm sure you'll be enjoying the fruits of your brave act before the end of the day."

She laughed when Pery groaned in consternation and buried her red face in her hands


	4. Chapter 03

Iltherian's Sword - Chapter 03

It was silent here. The silence of undisturbed centuries. A silence so complete it crushed everything else.

There was a stirring here. It wasn't a very loud noise. A mere whisper so slight that anywhere else it would've been overlooked. But here it was as a cacophony, an assault on the deep silence.

'Ah, at last, at last...it has finally come...'

In the deep darkness of this place, shadows began moving, sliding, slithering across the floor. The shreds of darkness were being drawn into a larger, greater darkness. When it was done, it was as if the room was lighter, even though the room was locked in the perpetual darkness of the underground.

'Yes...come to me...Tis time...come to me...'

The dark form darted from side to side, whirling about in a passionate, darkling dance. The air crackled with a maniacal excitement, a palpable force which would have incinerated anyone unfortunate to have been there.

'Yes, yes! At last, 'tis time! Time...Time...At last, all will be complete!'


	5. Chapter 04

Iltherian's Sword –– Chapter 04

The room was swathed in deep shadows, in spite of the candle burning in a sconce and the fire burning in the grate. The shadows were the kind that encouraged the suffocation of sound. And indeed this was the case for although the room was occupied, the man sitting at cubbyhole desk muttered in low tones almost too quiet to hear and the only other sound was the skritching of pen to paper.

The desk in front of him was crowded with papers, scrolls and books of all kinds. It was to this great stockpile that he turned, muttering under his breath, shifting book and papers; pulling scrolls from their cubbyholes, unrolling them and perusing their contents before allowing them to roll back with a snap, shoving them haphazardly back into the cubbyholes. The longer he unable to find what he wanted, the louder his muttering became. Until finally he burst out, "Where in five levels of the Underworld-ah! Aha! Here it is! Now where was that line..."

His voice diminished back to inaudibility. The dominant sound became the scratching of quill pen to parchment and the rustle of vellum as he kept referring to the scroll as he wrote.

A few moments of this elapsed before he drew to him a small slip of foolscap and began scribbling lines in a considerably less careful hand than he had in his notes. A moment was all it took to write his note.

He blinked, looking round as though surprised at finding himself alone although it had been he who'd sent his page out on an earlier errand. "An errand that he should be back from by now," he muttered having entirely forgotten he'd abjured to page not to reenter the room but to wait outside on account that, "You have an excessive amount of liveliness and would entirely cut my concentration to ribbons."

A statement that the boy had answered with a cheeky grin, knowing that his master didn't mean a single word of it. Indeed, he was known to be quite excessively lively himself. Quite often he could be seen punting a ball around the dusty yard of the Academy, as rowdy as the young pages he played with.

He bellowed the page's name, a summons answered by the crashing open of the door. His page barreled into the room, the bright and eager expression on his face emphasizing just how young he was, "You need me for something, Master Ransel?"

Ransel held out the note he just wrote, "See this goes out with a special courier; to be delivered to Sir Dedrick of RedGables," he held out another scrap of foolscap. "These are special instructions for the courier."

"Yes Master!" The page took both notes and hurried from the room, knowing that he'd have a bag of sweets as a reward when he got back.

Ransel stared after him a moment, wondering if he had been that energetic when he'd first entered the Academy. He was sure he was, although for the life of him, he couldn't remember one bit.

He shook his head. The pile of papers he'd been working on caught his eye and he scooted back to his desk, drawing the papers to him and soon he was immersed in his work and, for the moment, the note he sent speeding away to his younger brother, Dedrick, dismissed from his mind.

Dedrick of RedGables sat on the window sill of his inn room, staring down into the courtyard. He turned at a light tapping on his door, irritated at this interruption. That is until the interloper opened the door and stuck his head around it, a cheeky grin on his face. He lifted a hand, "Ya!"

"Aurhin!" Dedrick came off the sill as his cousin came over greet him. "What brings you around here, old son?"

"Amusing myself, playing messenger for the Academy," Aurhin withdrew Ransel's note. "From your brother."

Dedrick took the note, sinking back onto the sill as he read it. He was somewhat hampered in this by his cousin, who came over and leaned over him to look out the window. Dedrick favored him with an acid stare, "What do you think you are doing?"

"When I came up to the inn you were staring so intently into the courtyard, I am curious to know what caught your attention. Ah," sudden comprehension as Dedrick involuntarily glanced into the courtyard and at three people seated on the stone lip of the fountain gushing at the center, "and which of the ladies has caught your interest. Say, is that Dal? Not her surely? Although, the parents would be thrilled," he grinned at Dedrick's expression. "No? Perhaps that delicious lady elf?"

"Better not let her hear you say that, coz. She is a dead shot," Dedrick's gaze went to Pertyas, who was pacing along that stone lip as she spoke with his cousin and Sharina, "and I have not fixed my interest on her either."

"So the little lady with the mask? Pretty is she? Your mother will be thrilled when she finds out."

"Pretty? I know not. I have never seen her unmasked."

"What? Never? Then why are you..."

"I never said I was. That was your idea," he turned back to the courtyard.

At that precise moment, Perytas looked up, as if sensing their regard, spotting them in the window. She raised a hand in greeting then, unexpectedly, performed a spectacular series of acrobatic flips on the very edge of the fountain. A feat which, naturally, drew admiring applause from everyone watching, including the cousins. A gaggle of yammering children converged on Perytas, who jumped lightly down so she could crouch down to their level.

Dedrick's face softened into gentle lines as he watched her with the children. Aurhin watching him with a small smile on his face, drew his own conclusions, "So what does Ransel want?"

Reminded of Aurhin's reason for seeking him out, Dedrick went back to reading the note, "He has a job for me." He stood up and began gathering his belongings, "Better go now; we can find a place to stay in Merac Carron for the night then leave for the Academy in the morning."

"Old Jorn still rents out horses, since you probably do not have the Academy saved on a memorizing scroll, do you?"

"Why should I?" Dedrick shook his head, finished gathering his belongings. "I go there maybe once or twice a year."

"So? " Aurhin surprised him by leaning forward, peering into his cousin's face.  
"So...what?"

"Are you going say farewell to your lady-love? Will you not miss her too much if you do not?" He laughed merrily as he dodged the punch his cousin aimed his way.

"I told you she was not, you meathead, so get it set in your peabrain or I will pound it in there for you," Dedrick snarled, shoving his cousin out the door.

*****

Pertyas shouldered her travel pack, hitching it more securely on her back, stepping from the dim coolness of the inn into the blazing heat of the desert afternoon. Once clear of the door, she pulled a memorization scroll from the pouch at her waist, fixed her destination firmly in mind and tore the scroll to unseal the power. There was a momentary brightening in the air around her and there was a kind of peculiar lurch in her belly as the released magic whisked her away from the city.

Once she felt solid ground under her feet again, she blinked at the familiar lines of the entrance of Prokion Temple came into view. She turned west continuing on, seeking familiar pathways through the rocky hills for two days and nights until heavy rocky hills gave way to sandy dunes.

This was perhaps one of her favorite places in Dratan. Here, far away from the lights of civilization, the stars shown so brightly. So densely were the stars placed in the sky it seemed they flowed through the sky like a river of light.

It was also the eeriest, for rising from the sands were the bones of creatures so massive it boggled the mind imagining them striding the land. Pertyas picked her way through this graveyard of giants in the respectful silence the sight these remains engendered.

Then she saw it. The place she was headed. It wasn't really all that difficult to see, even on a moonless night; a massive set of rib bones, thrusting their way out of the sands, reaching up as if to pierce the sky.

The closer she got to it, the more cautious she became. For some of the dark forms scattered across the sands weren't all the remnants of some long dead behemoths. They were salamanders, living breathing creatures, perhaps descendants of these very remains. This soon after sundown, they were still quite active from the heat of the day, and they were quite capable of rousing quickly and lashing out at whoever was foolish enough to disturb them.

It was these things that she was after. The salamanders. A job she picked up from the occultist in Dratan, who had hired her for a friend. It was a job she wasn't looking forward to at all. Although she was quite capable of killing salamanders, it was the work afterwards that she wasn't looking forward to doing.

The work promised to be hot and messy. She thought about her armor and sighed. She knew that once the job was done, she'd be spending hour after hour just cleaning her armor. But that, of course, wasn't the worst of it. The job would probably take days to finish, and she knew that it wasn't going to be worth it to clean her armor until the job was done. And that meant either climbing into or continuously wearing progressively filthy armor for several days. She sighed again.

She needed to come up with twenty spikes from the salamander tail. Just twenty, but coming up with that number was going to be the problem. The job specified that the spikes not be marked. Although one salamander had enough to yield twice that number of spikes, those spikes were easily marked where they sat fixed in the tail, despite the spikes being strong enough to pierce armor and crush bones.

She found a place to set up camp, in the skull of one of the massive fossils. Large enough for her to work and stow her gear. There was enough cover to protect her from the heat of the day, shelter her from any chance night winds, although generally those died down near sunset. The bones were still strong enough to protect her from the salamanders themselves, with no openings large enough for a salamander to pursue her through. Someone else had discovered this as well, for she found the remnants of a firepit here, so it was a simple matter of laying the fuel she'd brought with her and lighting a fire.

She'd been right thinking the job was going to be messy. It took nearly three days to pry enough undamaged spikes from salamanders. On the whole, she rather enjoyed the work, pitting herself against such massively strong beasts.

It even had its amusing moments, like the time she gave a massive swing and found herself holding a flopping tail in her hand. The wounded salamander was so enraged it chased her, laughing and clutching its still writhing tail, until she reached a massive set of boulders where she dropped the tail and scrambled up the rocks out of reach. She crouched, out of breath and giggly, while it grumbled and roared below her, throwing itself at the boulders, crashing into them, making them shake. After nearly half an hour of fuming, the salamander rumbled off. She'd watched it ramble off, noticing that it wasn't bleeding anymore. In a month or two, it would even have a tail again.

It also had its hair-raising moments. She'd been working for a few hours when suddenly a gigantic black shadow burst into existence in the air over her head. Startled, terrified she'd thrown herself away from both it and the salamander. It took a moment to recognize the Kamira. Then she had several moments of tense waiting to realize that whatever had stirred the Kamiras several months ago wasn't influencing them now, for the monster hovered as blithely uninterested as it ever did. Perytas maneuvered herself away from the Kamira, luring the salamander away so she could deal with it. The Kamira followed her after a few minutes, and Perytas moved away from it until it followed her again. She relaxed when the Kamira departed an hour later, probably drawn away by another person or persons invading the desert and killing its creatures.

Once the job had been done, she spent nearly a day scrubbing her encrusted armor in the hot, dry sands of the desert. She kept looking around, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, a creeping sensation along her back of being watched disturbing her. She felt oddly vulnerable, although she'd brought a set of simple leather armor with her as a replacement while she worked at cleaning her newer armor. Of course it hadn't helped that the sprite attached to her new armor insisted on hanging on the tails of the mask she wore, curiously watching the process of cleaning; unfortunately, the little thing's movements out of the corner of her eye was a bit of a distraction.

But finally the armor was clean and she donned them with relief, knowing the strength of the armor was enough to protect her from almost anything in the surrounding terrain, barring the Kamira. Although it probably wouldn't protect her from any powerfully skilled warrior, she wasn't too concerned; she had the speed to get ahead of them to figure out what she would do. Even if it mean running away. She was a Ranger, and although she lived by her own personal code, a code similar she'd found to a knight's code, the code didn't include staying to fight a battle she couldn't win.

Night had fallen when she'd finished cleaning the armor, so she made up the fire and sat down next to it. She was a little uncomfortable from the armor and the day's heat hadn't bled off yet. But she knew soon enough she'd be huddling close to the flames.

She poked about the ashes from the previous night's fire, her stomach rumbling hollowly. She was looking for the salamander skin she'd flayed from one of the salamanders she'd been using to bake in. One thing about salamanders, they might look ugly and tough, but their flesh, baked for a suitably long enough time, produced a flaky, tender meat, delicate but more flavorful than the tastiest of game bird in Juno. As she chewed, she thought she might take an extra day and perhaps bag herself another salamander, there was a good market for salamander meat at the moment; the Festival of Fire was only a few days away and salamander meat was a staple for the festival goers.

She sighed

She reached into her pack and with a flicker of her hand, flipped a spare dagger towards a hole in the skull. The dark shadow that had been lowering into the hole withdrew itself sharply when the bronzed, glowing blade buried itself deeply into the bone next to it. She was on her feet in an instant, glowing blades in her hand, crouched and ready for the fight she was sure was to come. There was the sound of feminine laughter and a hand reached in and worked the blade free of the bone.

"Dal, I am going to kill you one of these days," Perytas growled, relaxing slightly. She scowled when Dal's head appeared on the hole, an impudent, upside down smile on her face, her long auburn braid dangling to the ground.

"Not hardly, fledgling," Dal laughed, squirming upside down through the hole, while Perytas watched this exercise in flexibility in admiration. As she dropped through the hole, she twisted, quicker than a cat, landing in a crouch near the fire. "Not at your level."

"True enough," Perytas sheathed her daggers. "You going to invite your friend to sit by the fire?"

"Your fire," Dal laughed, dropping down next to Perytas, "your invitation."

"You," Perytas gave Dal a strange look, "come and sit by the fire."

Dedrick ducked his head as he stepped into the skull. He regarded her with his disconcertingly blue eyes, stealing her breath and making her heart pound so loudly that she wondered that he couldn't hear it, and said, "I have a caper, and I need another partner."


	6. Chapter 05

Iltherian's Sword - 06- Chapter 05

Perytas yawned, staring at the fountain outside the window as it bubbled and sparkled away in the courtyard. She wasn't really sleepy, but she was feeling the heat of the late afternoon. As was, apparently, everyone in Dratan Town. The taproom had few patrons, and the salon where she sat was completely deserted.

She turned her head at the scrape of a boot on sanded wooden floor. Dedrick smiled at her from the doorway, "I would have thought that you would be resting like the rest of the town."

"Not everyone apparently," she glanced curiously at the bundle in his arms.

"Oh this...Here, this is for you," he deposited the bundle in her lap.

The first thing she noticed was its weight. Then it started moving. Her breath caught as a small green head emerged from the wrappings, which swivelled to stare at her with large, glittering amber eyes.

"A hatchling? You got him for me? But..." but she'd already fallen in love with the little green bundle in her lap. It raised its head, cocked it one way then the other, uttered a raspy uugghhnn-ugghhnn sound, then began burrowing under her breast. The action wasn't exactly comfortable in the Dratan warmth, because the small body was almost furnace-hot.

"Uh-oh, I shall not be able to take him back now," Ded smiled again at the pair, ignoring the sudden wish to throw himself in her lap, rather like the hatchling was doing.

She hugged the hatchling close, giggling when it wriggled around and burrowed its head under her chin and began whiffling loudly in her ear, "At least let me pay you for what you spent..."

"The egg was part of payment for my last job, so it did not cost me a thing," he leaned across to the window and pushed it open. Pertyas, clutching the hatchling to her chest, was acutely aware of his sudden proximity as he called out. She blinked at the chittering that came in response to his call. He jumped back and she flinched as a small red body swooped through the window, "This is my Anemome. I had thought to give her a companion...But I had a change of thought when I finally got him from Jajan," he didn't mention that when he saw the peridot scales of the hatchling glinting in the sun, he thought they were a near perfect match to her own peridot eyes. Then he'd shaken off what he considered his own rather prosaic thoughts and made the decision to give the hatchling to her.

Pery laughed, because Anemone was peering curiously over her knees at her hatchling, who had wormed its way under her arm and was peering uncertainly back at Anemone from the relative safety of her side. Anemone chirped, head coming up then tilting to one side. She crawled over Pery's knees to get a closer look at the much smaller hatchling.

"Ah, here you are," they looked up, finding Sharina leaning in the door, staring at them with her remarkably discerning green eyes. She leaned back out again, and they could hear her speaking to someone they couldn't see before she came into the room, trailed by Dalinna.  
Pery eyed the other two women rather enviously. She was sweating profusely in the warmth of the afternoon and they looked cool as if they'd just come from a dip in a cool lake. She'd rather conveniently forgotten that she had two hatchlings draped around her person and that Ded had quite forgotten to close the window after he'd let Anemone in.

"Really, Ded," Dal frowned at her cousin, "close the window, you are letting the desert in here. Anemone, stop scaring that little thing and come here," she stepped closer to Pery, her arms open and Anemone gave a little warble and leapt into Dal's arms.

"Oh," Ded suddenly became aware of how Pery seemed to be wilting. "I am sorry, I forgot."

"Honestly, coz," Dal sighed, shaking her head, depositing Anemone onto the footstool of the armchair she settled in. Anemone chirped affectionately, turned in a circle and curled up into a ball, her head resting on her folded paws. "Mind him not, Pery, neither cold nor heat affect him as it does the rest of us mortals."

"And you best be thankful for it, Dal," Ded grinned at her, after shutting the window, and dropping into another armchair close by. "I remember a certain six-year-old cousin of mine wandering off into the forest in the dead of winter, looking for holly berries for the Winter Festival, completely disregarding the warnings of the local weather witch about a snow storm heading our way. As I recall, I was the only one who could continue to search for you after the storm descended on us. Had I not found you huddled in the hollowed out trunk of that white ash..."

"I know, I know, I would have died. Believe me the following day when you brought me back to ClearBrook I wished you had," Dal laughed, waving a hand at her cousin. "Father was livid, of course. But Mother...Mother was a different story. She hugged me and never said a word about it; at least Father bellowed the rafters from the ceiling. But you know she and your mother have that way of silently making you squirm," she laughed at his wry nod. "Twas she that persuaded father to have one of his yeoman bowman to teach me woodscraft. Turned me into the veriest tomboy."

"Turned you into one of the best archers in his lands that is for sure," Ded grinned at her. "Not as good as your teacher, Allian, but very close. He was the reason you chose to be a Ranger, was he not?"

Dal nodded, and Shar stirred from her chair, interrupting quietly, "Are you going to tell us what we will be doing?"

"Yes," Ded smiled at her, his dimples dancing in his cheeks, "but we are waiting on one other person. It should not be much longer. I believe that he is meeting with his master at the moment."

Shar nodded. Even an important job, even an important meeting with Royalty or Nobility took second place to a meeting with one's master.

It was a short wait, mere minutes in fact. A tall man––no elf––put his head around the door and grinned. He stepped lightly into the room, so lightly that there was only the merest whisper of sound. Pery was sure that if he'd wanted, he would make no sound at all. He was very handsome, beautiful in the way of all his people. With long silver locks bound back from his face with a blue cord, his eyes a deep sapphire blue. And tall, so very tall, standing well over six feet; but more curiously was that although he was whipcord thin, he still much more bulky than the other men of his kind that Pery had ever seen. In his hand, he carried a glowing silver fallarm.

Pery noted, curiously, Shar's unusual reaction. At the sight of this lean, tall elf, the other elf went completely still. There was an air of...not quite approval, and not quite indifference. And for one elf to react in such a fashion to another elf seemed tantamount to disapproval. Which was quite curious, since most elves held themselves aloof from everything and everyone. Although they quite transformed when they were together. Pery had often seen gatherings of elves from afar when she passed through heavily forested areas in Merac. She'd been struck by the merriment and music she'd witnessed and, when they interacted with humans, how they always seemed so reserved.

Or rather, Pery's head tilted in thought, they were reserved when they were outnumbered by other races. But when they outnumbered the other races they were as merry as could be.

"Ah, there you are, Gaev," Ded nodded to the newcomer, who took a seat close to the door placed the fallarm across the armrests and draped his arms over it.

_'A cautious one, that,'_ thought Pery, mentally checking that her daggers were in reach,_ 'to take a seat farthest away from us.'_ He wasn't suspicious; she just had an abundance of caution.

"I was contacted a few weeks ago by the Great Academy of Merac," he shared a significant look with Dal, who murmured, "Ah, and how is Master Ransel these days?"

Ded grinned, "He is fine. He contacted me because he came across something interesting in his studies," he was silent a moment. "As many of you already know, there is a general movement amongst the scholars and masters to find out more information about the war between Eres and Apollon. My brother seems to think he's found a clue to a powerful weapon that was used during that time."

Ded pulled a folded parchment from his glove, and handed it to Pery. She unfolded it and looked at it. On it was a crudely drawn picture of some strange device. It was flat, with a circle on top and an attached cross on the bottom. A corona radiated from the circle and runes were drawn along the flat surface of the circle and cross shapes.

She felt a peculiar jolt as she studied what was drawn on the parchment. It was an odd feeling, for it was almost as if she recognized the object. Odd too because she knew that she'd never seen it before in her life. She ran a finger along the ring...because...because she thought there might be something missing... She frowned, shaking her head slightly, shaking off the odd feeling she was having and handed the parchment to Shar, who'd risen from her place to take the parchment.

Ded took the parchment back from Gaevin, "Ransel has discovered where this object is to be found. At the Margaadum Jail in Merac. In one of the cells on the third floor of the jail."

"Which one?" Gaevin asked, quietly.

Was it her imagination or had Gaevin turned even paler at the mention of the jail? A faint line appeared in her forehead as she peered at him. Definitely paler. Surely he wasn't afraid of the jail? Granted the jail was a grim, haunted place, but it wasn't as bad as all that. Not that she'd knew, having never been there yet. But to hear others speak of it, there was really nothing untoward there.

"He did not say," Ded's voice was laced with wry amusement. "He has a clue, of course, another picture," he held up a smaller paper with a symbol drawn on it. "He said that the guards still working to contain the jail would know the answer, or at least know where to find the answer. Apparently the Academy is not privy to that information."

"Awfully full of vague is he not?" Dal grinned, as she took the scrap from him, examining it closely.

"As usual, of course, when have you ever known my brother to give you a straight answer right away?" Ded laughed.

"You know, this looks like some devices I have seen there before," Dal frowned at the drawing. "Small wood chips mounted next to the cells. Most have rotted away with time...but I could swear I have seen something more or less similar. But it has been some time since I have been to the jail...I could be wrong of course."

Pertyas took the paper from her. She looked at it and felt the jolt of recognition again. She couldn't prevent her outburst, "Traitor..."

"What was that?" Dal frowned at her.

"This sigil," she pointed at one of the two devices drawn on the paper. "It means 'traitor'..."

Gaevin had taken the paper, "Ah. Actually, the literal translation is apostate. But traitor is a close enough translation of the word..." He looked at her in admiration, "You are one of the few humans that I know who can read this language. It is very ancient, and not spoken even amongst the human scholars."

Pery didn't say anything. Far better to let them think that she actually knew the language, when in fact she could swear she hadn't seen the language before today. But then she couldn't swear that she hadn't seen or hadn't known the language. She didn't know enough about her own past to know.

She frowned. Now she knew why she could find her way through some of the ancient places she'd explored. The sigils hadn't been a mystery to her; she'd been able to read them. Because she could read them, she didn't question how. It came naturally to her, rather like learning to walk. Once you learned how, you didn't have to think about it, you just did it.

Rather like modern language, once you learned it.

Pery was unusual in that, unlike most commoners––and rather like most nobility as well––and women, she was literate. Most commoners had enough number learning to make sure peddlers and merchants weren't cheating them, but most didn't even know enough to sign their own names. But Pery, as she was growing up, was fascinated by the books and scrolls she'd seen piled up at the apothecary's and wizard's shops she'd been in; had watched, enthralled, as they had written on scraps of paper while her master or mistress waited for their orders to be filled. She'd had dreams, as she lay in the darkness of her pallet in the corner of the kitchen, of learning how to read and write.

When she'd been taken in by her rogue master, she began learning to read. Some of it, her master taught her, sigils relating to their craft mostly, but some basics of learning. Her first rogue master––a ranger––had very basic reading skills, more than most, but not enough to satisfy her. With every job she did in those beginning days, she stockpiled gold. Gold enough to get her what she wanted––a tutor to teach her to read and write.

Once she'd learned enough to satisfy her tutor, a very old, irascible scholar who accepted nothing less than perfection from her, she began accumulating her own books. At her home, the first place she could call as truly her own, she had books, books and more books. Hundreds of books––and she'd read them all. Every single one. She thought of the small store of books waiting for her to read and thought she might pick one or two to bring with her to read.

"So what is the pay?" Dal asked, bringing Pery back to her surroundings.

She couldn't suppress her gasp at the sum he mentioned for each of them. Even Gaevin and Shar looked surprised, "Why so much?"

Dal laughed, "Because Ransel is Ransel. Never much of a skinflint is he, Ded?"

"He pays what he believes is right," Ded grinned. "The headmasters of the Academy indulge him because he is one of their best scholars and when he sends someone out for something, ten to one he gets good results––whether or not it is what is expected."

"So...when do we leave?" Pery asked, hoisting her new hatchling higher, smiling again as it began whiffling in her ear again.

"I can give you a day to gear up," Ded smiled at her. "We leave at sun-up, day after tomorrow."


	7. Chapter 06

Iltherian's Sword - 07 - Chapter 06

"So, you understand what is required of you?" The woman sat in the deepest shadows of the room. It was hard to see her face, but to some in the room that didn't much matter, because they were focused either on her long, voluptuous form or the rather large purse she'd tossed onto the table.

The leader of this group was focused on the purse, snatching it up and loosed the purse strings, peering into the bag and scooping up the coins and allowed them to stream back into the purse. Satisfied that it wasn't just a bag full of lead coins, the leader tightened the strings and looked at the shadowy head of the woman who had just contracted them, "Oh, we understand, but do you? Are you sure you want us to do this?"

"Are you having second thoughts?" The woman's voice was tinged with amusement. "Perhaps I should seek others...others who are not so...squeamish?"

"Not second thoughts!" A fist slammed the table hard, "We aren't squeamish. I just want to make sure you're not squeamish. After all, if things go bad, we're going to take you down with us."

A truly amused laugh escaped the woman, and she leaned farther back into the shadows, crossing shapely legs, "No worries on that score, my dear girl, if things go bad I want them to know who hired you."

"Good," the leader leaned back, a smile crossing her pretty face. "I'm up for something out of the common way. Killing monsters is quite fun but it has grown awfully boring. And doing those stupid jobs for the townsfolk, they don't pay enough for the danger they put us through."

"Ah, so might I count on you for further jobs in the future?"

"You pay us as good for future jobs and you keep it as interesting as this sounds and you can count on us for anything," the girl lips curved in a smile that chilled even as it fascinated.

"Excellent, my dear, excellent."


	8. Chapter 07

Iltherian's Sword - Chapter 07

Perytas stepped under the arches leading to the prison with trepidation. She'd never been to the prison before and she didn't quite know what to expect. From the sour expressions on the others' faces, she took it to mean that they weren't all that happy to be here either.

Something about the arches caught her attention and she frowned. She bent closer to the nearest arch, to get a better look at it. When she realized what the arch was made of, she pulled away, repulsed. The arches were made of bone. Tiny chips of bone fitted together and cemented in place. She didn't know what kind of bone they were made of and she certainly didn't want to find out. A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered suggestions that were too obscene to contemplate; suggestions that she thought were all too true. Still, she shoved those thoughts to the back of her mind, dismissing them from conscious thought.

"I so thought I was shot of this place," Dalinna sighed as she stepped forward, nodding to the teleporter, who with a casual flick of his hand, whisked Dal into the prison.

Watching a person teleport was sort of like watching a person made of cloud be shredded into a wisp by a silver whirlwind. There was no sound, only a flash of silver and then the person wasn't there anymore.

Watching it and experiencing it is two different things, of course. In the teleport there are sights and sounds and feelings. It wasn't entirely pleasant, but neither was it unpleasant. There was an odd, swirling in the pit of the stomach, a sound of rushing wind and an odd strobing light, like moving object passing intermittently in front of a bright light. A second or so of this and then you were on the other side.

She blinked as she stepped off the platform, out of the way of Sharina who followed after her. She looked around her, then averted her eyes from the walls, because the inside seemed to follow the same general design as the outside. The walls, ceiling and floors were carved right out of the stone around it, a gray-blue granite, into intricate patterns on every side and, although she knew it was a trick of the mind, seemed to exude a chill that she could feel through the soles of her boots. The wall braces themselves were bone; massive bones turned to stone down through the ages. Mage lights filled the chambers with light, but no warmth and she fought against a shiver.

"Ugh, I hate this place," Dal said, revulsion clear in her voice.

"Why?" Pery blinked, looking around. Sure it was grim, but there really didn't seem much to warrant such patent dislike.

"My master made me spend six months here," Dal replied, her voice heavy with meaning. "Six months of battling dogs, and goat-monsters, and undead masked soldiers," she sighed. "And for what? There is nothing here but monsters now. Monsters that have devoured all the prisoners who used to call this place home. There was nothing here before that, either. This is a prison, was originally built as a prison and not a stronghold, so there is nothing that was left behind that one could call treasure. Sometimes what the masters want escapes me. I had hoped, once I left this place, to never see it again."

"Amen to that," Shar looked at the walls with no less a look of hatred as Dal's. "Poor Dal. Having to spend half a year here. My master only made me spend a couple months here. Still...it was enough to make me hate this place."

Gaevin laughed, an incongruously merry sound in such a grim place, "Yes and you still wonder why do you not? Did you ever ask your master why? No?" He laughed again, "You probably never noticed how much faster you moved, how fast you reacted afterwards. The only good that comes of this place is training your reflexes," he grinned an impudent grin. "I did not notice, either. But I rather impudently demanded an answer from my master and that is what he told me."

Shar was staring at him in astonishment, "Your master told you? Mine would have cuffed me for such impudence."

"Ah, but I know my master well. I know enough to ask my questions when he is occupied by other concerns or his own studies," his grin widened as Shar's jaw fell open. As well it should. Elves did not resort the chicanery to get the answers they wanted. And here was one who blatantly admitted that very thing.

She barely had any warning. Merely the slightest raising of hairs on the back of her neck. She was already moving, twisting as a hulking shadow-black form hurtled toward her. She didn't think, she didn't have to, as with a single, graceful sweep her swords flashed in shining arcs, slicing through flesh as easily as they'd sliced through air. In seconds it was over, and she stood trembling, staring wide-eyed down at the dire spike canine corpse.

"My, you are faster than I was when I first came here," Dal walked over and casually kicked at the corpse.

"Don't sound so impressed," Pery said wryly. She reached into her tunic and pulled out an indigo colored stone fastened to a thin gold chain, "I'm not so fast on my own."

"Oh...handy that," Dal laughed, examining the Stone of Shadow Pertyas was wearing, she released the charm and Pery stuffed it back into her tunic.

"Too right," Pery gave the corpse at their feet a wry glance. "I take it I'm going to need it around here."

They all looked back at her with varying degrees of affirmation so she sighed and sat down on her haunches next to the corpse. She wiped her blades as clean of the black blood as she could before wiping the rest off on a rag she'd dug out of her pack. She'd learned to her detriment that black blood would ruin a blade as if it had been cast into a vat of acid. She cast the rag aside––the black blood would eat the rag away leaving nothing––and rose to follow the others.

******

"Where did it come from?" Dal winced as Shar examined the wound in her thigh. "I swear it came out of the stonework. One second there was nothing, then next thing I know whoosh."

"Hold still," Shar said, pulling a small flask and some toweling from her pack. "I have to clean it. There is no poison on its blade, but I want to make sure there is nothing in the wound before I heal it."  
"Where in the NetherWorld is that guard?" Dedrick snarled, glaring around them, alert for more monsters.

"Perhaps we should go back to the guard station to wait for him?" Gaevin said ironically, his eyes tirelessly scanning the corridor just as Dedrick was. "Might be less dangerous."

There came a gentle glow and the wound the Beast Scythe had cut into Dal's flesh began knitting. Soon there was nothing left of the wound but a thin white line. A white line that Pery knew would fade into nothingness in a few hours. Dal struggled to stand, but Shar grabbed her arm, "No, that wound cut through tendons, you should not walk on it for a few hours."

"But...I can––," Gaevin cut her protest off by scooping her up off the floor. She muttered something caustic in his ear that only made him laugh as they set off back down the corridor.

The trip back to the guard station didn't take them long even with more unexpected attacks. Gaevin dumped Dal unceremoniously onto a mussed cot and glared at her when she made to rise again. He grinned as she subsided and she stuck a tongue out at him.

Gaevin was a puzzle to Pery. He didn't act like any of the elven she'd ever met before. Half the time, elves engendered a feeling of awe in her, the other half they irritated her to no end with their holier-than-thou condescension. What annoyed her the most was they acted as if they knew everything and most people treated them as if they did. To be sure, immortality would probably do that to anyone; it boggled the mind thinking all that an elf might see, learn and do in their long, long lives. She supposed that their insufferable know-it-all attitude stemmed from the ennui brought about by the long years of having seen and done so much, and believing there was nothing else on the horizon.

But Gaevin was different. Not only because he seemed so young- she supposed he was compared to some she met––although she could feel, somehow, the weight of his years press on her when he was near. It was also because he seemed so much more approachable than his brethren. In many ways, he was the same as his race, he had the same grace, beauty and power but his presence was rather warmer than any other elf she'd met so far.

That why he was such a puzzle to her. Because he seemed more like a human than an elf. And then there was Shar's almost...uncomfortableness when she was around him. Which was distinctly odd, since elves were almost always more relaxed when another elf was around. Instead, Shar always seemed to shy away from him.

The ringing of boots pounding along the corridor brought her back to the present and she looked up as two prison guards bolted into the room, slamming shut the door. It was almost flung back open as something slammed into it. Dedrick and Gaevin rushed to help the guard who was struggling to hold the door closed so the other could bar it. That done, the guard slammed the second metal door and barred that as well, as whatever had been chasing the continued pounding on the outer door. They collapsed on the floor, sagging and panting in relief.

"Ah-a," the shorter of the two burst out, falling onto his back in exaggerated relief, "I thought I was going to die. What on Iris possessed me into listening to you?"

"Well," Pery could hear the grin in the other man's voice, "it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You always were a bit of an idiot, Noa," Dal laughed, as she sat up onto the edge of the cot, despite Shar's disapproving glare.

Swiveling around, the guard called Noa caught sight of Dal perched on the edge of his cot and leapt to his feet, a huge grin blossoming on his face. He rushed over to her and plucked her off the cot, "Dal! It's been forever! Dare I hope that you're being on my cot means you've finally come to your senses and have succumbed to my charms?"

"It means," Shar interrupted, "my patient had been ordered to rest and your manhandling her is not doing her any good. Put her back down."

"Ah, yes, my lady," Noa put Dal back down. "Disappointing, though."

Dall rolled her eyes as she leaned against the wall, "Oh please, as if I would ever fall for your blandishments. No, we are here on business I am afraid."

She explained what they were after and Noa frowned, shaking his head, "Can't recall that one off the top of my head," his frown deepened as he walked to the wall, which was lined with cubbyholes and shelves filled to the overflowing with scrolls, folios and books. He pulled a number of massive tomes from a shelf, "These are the prisoner records; they're rather sparse; name, date imprisoned, offense and cell number."

"We'll help look," Pery took one of the books from him. "We know what to look for."

Hours later, she was ready to eat her words. Nearly a hundred pages, a thousand entries and many of them almost completely illegible. She sighed, rubbing dry eyes. The problem was that these were prison guards and not proper scribes, so they weren't required write clearly. Many of them were clearly barely literate to judge by the awkward phrasing and misspellings. She looked up and judging by the frowns on their faces, her companions were having as hard a time as she was. She sighed and bent her head over the tome again. Half an hour later, "Ah, I found it."

She stifled a giggle and the patent relief on the other's faces as the looked up from their books and rose to stand over her. Noa leaned over the book, "Where? Let me see..."

"Here," Pery turned the book so he could read it, pointing out the entry.

Noa ran a finger over the faded line of ink, his face serious. When he reached the cell entry, both his face and finger spasmed, "Gods!"

Dal's eyebrows rose, "What is it?"

"This entry," Noa was deadly serious. "This is the sealed cell."

"Sealed?" Gaevin asked, a frown on his pretty face.

"They sealed this cell after he died... This place was no resort, this symbol here means he was murdered by another inmate and for some reason the cell was sealed never to be used again."

"Why?" Dedrick leaned over the book.

"These are just the enrollment books so they wouldn't have any details...but," he went back to the shelves. "Having a cell sealed is a serious thing. An incident report would've been entered into the logs," he ran his fingers over the more spines and pulled out another massive tome. "Let's see...Ah! Yes, here it is." He was silent, "My, this fellow was an unpopular one. A necromancer, it seems and one who dealt in the blackest of this art, I'm afraid. Murdered a couple of his fellow inmates and was murdered in retaliation...hmm..." He continued to read, "His cell wasn't immediately sealed, the notes go on to say," he lapsed into silence, "after his death they put several prisoners in the cell but they all died horrible deaths...apparently by whatever it was that he summoned with his necromancy. This was verified by the sorcerers who had come in to cleanse the room. They weren't successful, so it was deemed too dangerous to keep the room in use. So it was sealed, both physically and magically."

They were silent for a moment before Dedrick scratched at his head and blew out a breath, "This...could be a problem..."

"We need to get into that room," Pery leaned back against a table set against a wall.

"I'm sorry but I can't allow that," Noa straightened, crossing his arms. "The room should remain sealed."

"Why should there be any problem?" Dedrick shook his head. "With monsters on the loose in the prison now, sure there is no need to worry about unsealing the door."

"I should think there is," Noa scowled. "That room was sealed for a reason and I'd be derelict in my duty if I allowed whatever was sealed in there out to roam the corridors––or worse what if it gets out?"

"Hmm..." Gaevin was running his elegant fingers down the page, "...it does not say, but what kind of seal was it?"

"For sealing a necromantic curse? A six point seal, more than likely," Noa replied, turning his head to look at the elven man. "Why?"

"Then it should not be a problem, I am, after all, a sorcerer and one of the first things we learn is sealing and not to brag, but my six point seal is one of the strongest my instructors have ever seen," he grinned and Pery's lips quivered as Dal caught her eye and rolled her own. "There should be no problem if I erected a barrier to keep whatever is in there inside."

"Is this true?" Noa demanded of Shar, who looked as if she wanted to ask, _'What are you asking me for?'_

But she swallowed that line and replied, "Yes, it is true, sorcerers are taught sealing spells as one of their earlier lessons. Although," she gave Gaevin a speaking look which he returned with an unrepentant widening of his grin, "I cannot personally vouch for his abilities."

It took some doing, but both Dedrick and Gaevin were finally able to persuade Noa to do what they were asking. But Pery could tell he still had mighty reservations about what he was letting them do. And Pery could honestly say that she did as well.


	9. Chapter 08

Iltherian's Sword - 09 - Chapter 08

"Well, he really seems to like you," Perytas said quietly to Dal as they watched the men cautiously unbolting the door and peering outside. Apparently the coast was clear because the motioned the others to follow.

"Who? Noa?" Dal seemed genuinely surprised. "Bah, he is just a friend. I am certain he acts like that with all women."

"No," Sharina's voice was wry. "He only acts like that with you. I have been here any number of times with other women and he never acted so...unrestrained or openly affectionate."

Dal was shaking her head, disbelief written clear on her face, "No, no. Tis just his sense of humor. One just has to get to know him well for him to loosen up enough to tease like that."

Shar's face was wry again. It was clear she though Dal was in some sort of denial. She didn't say it, but Pery privately agreed with Shar's assessment. Especially when she noticed how often Noa would look back at her with stars in his eyes. It wasn't an expression Pery associated with friendship.

Not that she had much experience with romance herself. She was rather skittish when it came to the interest of anyone. She allowed so few people close to her––both physically and emotionally.

Her eyes wandered to Dedrick, who was walking at the head of the little group with Noa. She was uncertain about what she was feeling; it was something akin to fear, but it was also not. It pressed against her ribs, made it hard to breathe. She put a hand to her chest, the thrill making her heart pound.

What was this she was feeling? Why was it this man who provoked it in her? Every time she looked at him, she was torn between the desire to bask in the warmth of his regard and running as fast and as far as she could

As if sensing her regard, and perhaps the turmoil in her mind, Ded turned his head to look at her. When he caught her eye, his intense blue eyes warmed and his dimple made a reappearance. She could feel her cheeks heating under that gaze and she looked away, uncomfortable. She shook the feeling off with some difficulty, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than this tumultuous riot in her mind.

A focus that suddenly became painfully sharp as a scream ripped through the air. They all looked at each other then bolted down the stairs as another scream rent the air. They emerged on the upper landing of the third floor and on the lower landing, they could see beast flyers mobbing something.

Dal was squinting, then she gasped, "Two girls. They do not look so good..."

She and Ded were already moving, running along the upper landing. Shar bolted down the stairs, followed closely by Gaevin. Pery followed Dal and Ded more slowly. Her crossbow was out and she was shooting down the beasts they were ignoring.  
She gasped when the cousins flung themselves from the landing. She felt a stab of pure envy of that reckless yet exquisitely graceful act. They reached out, catching at a link in the chains hanging from the ceiling, swinging out over the main floor. Releasing at the same time, they landed on the backs of two of the beast flyers, Ded driving both his swords deep into his monster's back and Dal clinging tenaciously to hers, one arm round the thick corded neck, and firing her crossbow at random targets over its shoulders.

Pery ran up one of the chains anchored to the landing, then cast herself at the end dangling from the ceiling. She scrambled down the links as it swung, lodging the tip of her foot into the last link and began firing her own crossbow at the beast archers. They were, fortunately, terrible shots, because although she was able to draw all the archers' fire to her, not a single one of them landed a shot. She was, alternately, able to pick every single one of the archers off as she swung from the ceiling in increasingly lazy arcs.

She dropped to the floor as Gaevin stopped and raised his fallarm. The blade flashed and his wind elemental soared out of that flash, arrowing straight for the flyer that had a pale-skinned young woman pinned to the floor. It hit the flyer so hard that it actually knocked the flyer from its prey.

The girl scrambled to her feet, her face grim with determination, swung around shouting something incomprehensible, jabbing her wand at another flyer hunched over another woman huddled on the floor. It was an exercise in futility since the attack burst harmlessly on its arm and didn't even draw its attention. She jabbed again, shouting another incantation, a stronger one this time, apparently because the flyer left off its mauling, turning a baleful eye on the other girl. She jabbed again and the flyer reared back roaring in pain, blood streaming from its eye. It flung itself at the girl as she attacked again.

Gaevin rushed past Pery and she heard him mutter, "What is that girl up to?"

There was a deep creaking next to her ear as Shar drew her bow and an instant later an arrow sprouted from the flyer's cheek. Gaevin reached the girl just in time to catch her as she fell. He swung his fallarm, calling out his own incantations, slicing through the flyers neck. Gaevin whisked the girl out of the way as the flyer's momentum carried forward several more feet before crashing into the floor and it lay still.

Dal, Pery and Ded cleared the rest of the mob from the room while Shar, Noa and Gaevin attended to the two women. When Ded came over to the little group, he poked a little fun at Noa for not helping with the mob, Noa grinned unrepentantly, "When there are others more eminently qualified to handle them around to do it for me?"

"Admit it, you were too chicken to jump into the fight," Ded prodded some more, a gleam in his eye.

"Not too chicken," Noa sniffed, delicately. "But why should I endanger myself when there are those who are stupid enough to fling themselves into the fray with nary a hesitation?"  
"Oh so?" Dal said, standing behind him, her hands draped casually over the pommels of her daggers, "So you are calling me stupid?"

Noa went pale, as he turned to face her, smiling weakly as he found himself pinned on three sides by cool female eyes, "No! No of course not! It was just a jest. A joke," he laughed feebly and Ded and Gaevin snorted quietly in the background.

Shar leaned back, "She should do now. She must have hit her head when the flyer attacked her. She will awaken in a few minutes."

"And this one?" Gaevin still had the other girl cradled against his chest.

"She was casting spells she should not have been capable of using yet, I deem," a small smile curled Shar's lips. "The strain exhausted her mentally."

"Ah, so speaks the voice of experience," Dal teased, even as she kept an eye out for more flyers and archers.

Shar laughed, a sound that seemed to dispel some of the gloom in the room, "She did not have much in the way of injuries, so she should also awaken soon."

Which she did, reviving mere moments later. She blinked awake, staring up at Gaevin for a moment before she went a pretty crimson and jerked away from him. She spotted the other woman––who looked enough like the other for them to guess that they were sisters––and scrambled over to her. "Star! Star, are you all right?"

"She will be fine," Shar said, touching the girl's shoulder reassuringly. "I healed her wounds, so she should come round soon."

"Oh thank goodness," the girl heaved a sigh of relief. "I don't know what I would've done if she were hurt any worse."

"But, can you tell us how you are here in the first place?" Gaevin asked, "you were casting spells you were obviously unable to handle. Master-class spells if I judge right. You should never have come to this place at your level."

"You're right, neither of us are Master-class yet. Star is two years my senior but we both are still only mid-level Journeyman mages. We only got this far because we weren't alone," the girl smoothed an errant strand of hair from her sister's face. "We were in town, looking for work. We were approached by a knight, Sir Karan, he said his name was, who asked us for help with his current job. It seemed a good opportunity, so we accepted.

"But...He brought us here, and when we came to this room he killed one of the flyers and when they mobbed us, he disappeared, ran away," she gasped. "Oh! I haven't yet thanked you for saving Star!"

"Well, perhaps you might start by introducing yourself and go from there?" Dal smiled, hefting her crossbow to her right shoulder, amusement at the girl's horror over her gaff gleaming in her violet eyes.

"Oh! Oh dear, of course! I'm called CrystalFire and this is my elder sister, StarShade. We're of the Karia Clan."

Pery knew that their names weren't their real names. Mages were a highly suspicious and superstitious lot. They believed names held power to give names was to give power over them somehow. No mage ever gave their real names, ever.

Not that it was an unusual practice. Most rogues never used the real names easier. But there was a much more practical reason for that, of course. Because rogues made more enemies than friends, especially if you chose to be an assassin. If an enemy knows who you are, then they can find you. He can discover your secrets, your weaknesses and use them against you.

Not that Pery had cause to worry over that. She'd made few enemies over the years she was a rogue mainly because, unlike a majority of rangers, she didn't do wet work. She'd killed people, but never without cause.

And Pery couldn't give out her real name even if she wanted to, because she didn't know it herself.

Pery ran an assessing eye over both girls. They were both quite young for journeyman mages, the older seeming to be only two years younger than her own four-and-twenty years. Both had the pale skin and slight build common for mages. They both had black hair, long and bound into braids, although CrystalFire's was longer than her sister's and StarShade had a stark-white lock of hair on the left side. They both had the same silvery eyes with StarShade having tattoos under them and CrystalFire's being free of marks.

"Well, CrystalFire of the Karia," Dal smiled. "Sounds like you ran afoul of a mischief maker, Be sure we shall take care of him if we run across him."

StarShade lifted a hand to her face, moaning a little, "Crystal?"

"Oh, Star," Crystal leaned over her sister, "how do you feel?"

"Woozy," Crystal helped her sister sit up. "I remember the mob––" she gasped, quickly twisting this way and that obviously looking for the mob that had been attacking them, she relaxed as she saw those surrounding her, although she winced at the sight of dead beast flyers all around them, "What––? Who––?"  
So Star was duly informed of what happened when she was off in dreamland. She shook her head over what happened, a hand to her face, "I should've known...That blackguard. If I ever get my hands on him..."

"I think, my girl," Dal reached a hand down to help Star to her feet, "that you have a ways to go before you can do anything about that."

"'Twould best serve you to stick with us for the nonce," Ded said, extending his hand to Crystal. "We cannot really spare anyone to take you back to the entrance."

"Won't take very long anyway," Noa said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "That's the cell over there."

*****

Gaevin examined the cell, making mysterious sounds in his throat as he did so. A thing that frustrated Pery since she had no idea if what he was making noises over was good or bad. After a few minutes, Gaevin squatted down and using a charcoal stick from his belt pouch, drew a complex seal on the floor. When he stood up, he raised his fallarm and brought the iron-shod butt end down directly in the center of it. The iron rang out as it struck stone and the charcoal figures of the seal flashed with an intense violet light. There sprang up a pale bubble of light over the door and Gaevin raised a hand, index and middle fingers straight and the other three folded together. Resting his index finger lightly on his lips, he began murmuring under his breath and the bubble writhed as he fit the barrier to the aperture. When it filled the doorframe, he lifted the fallarm again and brought it down in the seal again.

"Get ready to go," Gaevin said, his voice completely serious for once. "I will only be able to hold the barrier for a limited time after I release the seal."

Ded and Dal nodded to each other and they moved to the doorway just as Gaevin thrust his hand into the seal, still glowing strongly even after six hundred years. He spoke a single sharp word and the seal disintegrated in his grip.

The barrier fell with a loud hiss and a rush of fetid air smelling of the decay of centuries. All of them lifted hands to their faces, as if the gesture would shut out the smell. It was dark beyond the doorway, the interior of the cell deeply shadowed mere inches beyond iron bars nearly rotted away by something more corrosive than mere rust. The initial rush of air didn't change the rancid scent pervading the cell; it was still nauseatingly strong.

Dal lifted the lantern that Pery handed her and walked forward. She paused a moment as Gaevin's barrier resisted her a moment before allowing her to slip through. Ded followed the same way.

Dal swallowed the gag rising in her throat at the smell, looking around the small cell. Everything was dark with rot. The walls were blackened with mold and crumbling. Rusted out metal chains danged from both walls and ceiling. A rotted bedframe was shoved in the corner. Anything else that had been in the room had fallen to dust long before.

'The most obvious place to start,' Dal thought, 'would be the bed.'

Even as she touched what was left of the frame, it literally crumbled beneath her fingertips. She sifted through the remains, wincing at the slimy mold she dug through to reach the floor. She didn't find anything in the rot that was the bed. She dusted of her hands as she began examining the bricks of the wall near the bed.

Ded had been shifting through the remaining debris and was finding nothing. He'd begun examining the bricks as well. He'd found several that he could pull out, but a search of the revealed spaces proved fruitless.

As Dal turned her attention to a promising set of bricks, she was knocked to the ground. She groaned, curling into a ball of misery, feeling as if she'd been kicked in the gut. She cried out in pain, as it felt as if a booted foot smashed into her back. Then again to her ear, and again to her chest.

"Coz!" Ded took a step in her direction, then he cried out himself as he was lifted off his feet and lobbed across the room as if he'd been a ragdoll tossed away in a fit of rage. He crashed into the wall, bounced off but somehow managed to roll unsteadily to his feet. Dull thumps echoed through the room, his body jerking as an unseen force struck at him, driving him to his knees.

"What is happening in there?" Shar called into the cell. "Do you need help?"

"No!" Dal called in a ragged voice, rolling over and pushing to her knees, fighting against the blows still being rained down on her. "We are attacked, but..." she cried out as there came a rushing sound, as the wind whipping through cloth and then it seemed as if she were being smothered in blackness.

"But nothing," another voice chimed in––StarShade. "I'm coming in," she suited words with action, sliding through the barrier then stood blinking in the inky darkness which was only relieved by the lantern, which was by this time guttering dangerously. She tsked as she saw what was happening and raised her wand, "Asai!"

Light bloomed from the tip of her wand, as a rose blooms in the spring. The magelight blazed in the dim room banishing the shadows even from the deepest parts of the room.

Both Dal and Ded slumped to the floor, slack in surprise as the blows ceased and the black cloud shrouding Dal shredded like smoke in a strong wind. Dal blinked as she sat up, wincing at new aches and pains, "How––?"

"Lady Shar explained it to me," Star raised her wand higher. "There is a form of magic called shadow magic in necromancy. And shadow magic has no power in the light. Introduce a strong enough light and whatever power there is, is dispersed." She looked around, a look of distaste on her face, "Still and all, I'd prefer not stay in here any longer than we must."

"Dal, what were you looking at?" Ded came over to where his cousin was sitting, and sat down on his haunches. "I think it focused its attack on you because you were on to something."

"Focused on me? You were the one tossed into the wall, not me," Nonetheless Dal scowled at the wall and began feeling in the chinks of the bricks she'd been looking at before. "I think there is something here––ah!" She cried out gleefully as she took something wrapped in rotting black cloth from the space. She let the decaying stuff drop, nodding in satisfaction at what was revealed, "Right, this is it. Time to go."

None of them disguised their relief as they left the room. As Star, the last to leave, passed through the barrier, there came an ear-splitting shriek from inside the cell. Star sprang away from the barrier as something crashed against it. The crash was so powerful that the barrier actually shook.

Gaevin swore, paling under the sheen of sweat coating his skin as he braced himself against the assault. He closed his eyes, reached out with his free hand and began tracing more complex patterns in the air that left shimmering blue trails behind. They could hear him murmuring between the shrieks and crashes against the barrier. His voice rose to a shout even louder than that of the creature within the cell. He thrust his hand into the center of the glimmering seal he'd drawn in the air. There was a flash of brilliant blue light and the shrieking subsided as the seal filled the doorway, shutting even the sound in the cell away. He sagged to the ground, dropping his fallarm with a loud clang, panting as if he'd run a particularly arduous race.

After a minute or so, he breathing had calmed and he looked up grinning his usual rakish grin through a face still shiny with sweat, "Time for us to get out of here."

Pery paused at the top of the stairs, as the others moved up ahead of her, looking back at the glowing door. They had succeeded at their job, but she couldn't shake a tiny sense of unease at it. She paused a moment more, frowning, before turning away and running up the dark stairway after the others.


	10. Chapter 09

Iltherian's Sword - 10 - Chapter 09

Any lingering dreads they might've had burned away in the watery sunshine outside. When Perytas stepped from under the rib-bone arches, it was as if there had been steel bands binding her chest which suddenly burst and she could breathe freely again. She realized that, from her companion's expressions, that they were feeling something similar.

Dedrick had, by this time, persuaded the sisters to join them, "We are, after all, quite indebted to you for your rather timely intervention. Had you not known enough about necromancy, and how to deal with it, we might still be in there."

So they teleported, once again, to town. There they picked up or rented mounts and resupplied themselves. By the time they rode from town, they were a merry little band, laughing and talking with each other. Most of the group had set out to discover more about their new companions, who were more than willing to talk about themselves.

Perytas was the only one who said little, content to allow the others to question their new friends. She rode quietly alert of their surroundings, but still paying attention to her friends' questions and to the sisters' answers. But she was constantly scanning the forest for any potential threat. While she knew that the others were paying attention too, and though she didn't doubt their readiness, it was hard going against years of ingrained habit. She didn't often work with others, so she was used to doing for herself.

It made nights on the road troublesome, however, for she often woke at the slightest sound. She'd startled awake, heart racing, until she identified the source, usually some forest creature out on its nocturnal forays.

The journey passed uneventfully enough. There were no great changes in the weather, no attacks by berserkers or bandits. Even the hunting was good. The only untoward thing that happened was Sharina's horse cast a shoe, which naturally enough, Gaevin knew how to fix.

Dedrick's brother was more than a little disgruntled at having to pay for two more people, but he did not quibble overlong after Dedrick employed a little creative arm-twisting. When Dedrick leaned over and murmured into this brother's ear, he had paled and complied. And he had more work for them, another journey, another mysterious artifact for them to find. And again in Merac. In ruins located near the northeastern part of the country.

A place she knew well, she noted, excited. She'd been into that area any number of times and never even knew theat these ruins existed. She made a mental note to pay close attention to where the ruins were and the mobs that inhabited it. In the back of her mind, a number of hazy ideas were forming and she allowed her mind to start sorting through them.

A week later, they arrived at the edge of the forest where the ruins were, without much incident, barring the usual mob attacks. They had sufficient number and strength that these mobs posed little, if any, threat.

Perytas reigned her horse in at the top of a rise overlooking the forest. As she stared out at the great green swath below, she felt a renewed sense of awe at the sight. It was, she remembered, the same as when she first saw it. It had been, strangely, like coming home. Odd because she'd been raised in a prosperous farming community in the heart of Juno, which bore not even a passing resemblance to this wild tangle of a place. If she'd been any place else before Hamm's Way, she couldn't remember.

And yet, this place seemed to call her like no other she'd seen so far. She'd happily disappeared under its boughs for a month, emerging only when her supplies had run out. She'd not rejoined the world of men willingly either. If she'd known more herb lore, she probably stayed there for much, much longer. As it was, she later realized that when she'd emerged from the forest that she'd been more than a little wild herself; so much so that many of the villagers of Merac Caron had taken one look at her and skittered out of her way. The merchant to restocked her supplies had looked terrified when she'd stopped in front of his stall. And he hadn't bothered to hide his relief after she'd paid her shot and walked away.

Come to think of it that was when...

She blinked, frowning. Gaevin had pulled his mount round near her and was likewise staring at the forest. But the expression on his face was nothing like the pleased one she'd been wearing a moment before. Instead he was wearing quite the most inscrutable expression she'd ever seen him wear.

Now that she thought on it, he'd been unusually moody the closer they'd gotten to the forest. Gone was the rakish flirt and in its place was a brooding, tight-lipped creature that barely resembled the man she'd known before. Pery found she rather missed the other Gaevin. Although she had to admit that even if she didn't like the attitude change, it definitely hadn't affected his looks; certainly he looked better than ever with that sullen look on his pretty face.

That little realization had been something of a revelation for her. Up until this point, she'd been largely indifferent to male beauty. Men had been objects to wary of, if not to fear outright. Yet now, because of these two men, she was viewing them as people, individuals of feeling, depth and beauty. She's spent many hours brooding over this, her silence largely unnoticed because it was, more or less, her natural state.

Dal's voice brought Pery back to the present, "Hey you two, are you coming?"

With a last, thoughtful glance at Gaevin, who was still staring morosely down at the canopy, she guided her horse down the path, "Yes, coming."

Pery breathed deep, savoring the scents she loved the most. She loved the smell of rich black earth and green growing things more than anything.

Check that. Pery blinked, surprised at herself. Except for baked goods. She laughed at herself. For a moment she allowed her mind to wander over the delights of berry tarts and fresh baked bread. Maybe she'd have...

Then–

Her mind snapped into the present with painful focus. A quick glance around told her that, except for the sisters, the rest of her companions were well aware that they were no longer alone.

By tacit agreement, none of the said anything. Pery felt no malice in the waters. She could tell the others felt the same, for although they were tense, they weren't jumpy as they they'd be if they'd sensed something wrong. Still it was a little irritating, that constant scrutiny. By the third day though, Pery was quite ready to confront their watchers. She didn't have much longer to endure it, because less than a week into their foray into the green, one of their watchers showed himself.

They were picking their way gingerly through the forest searching for a place to camp for the night. Shadows were gathering around gnarly roots as dusk approached. A tall figure stepped from the shadows, starting both horses and their riders. A voice, clear as a temple bell, called out sternly, "You may go no farther."

The figure stepped forward and Pery recognized it as an elvish man. Oh and what a man! His hair gleamed gold even in the gathering darkness. Silver-glass eyes under finely winged brows. His face was as unlined and pretty as a young girl's and his body held the wiry strength of a man full-grown. Clothed in the black, browns, greens and greys of the forest, he blended into the undergrowth. On his girdle was buckled a long dagger and sword. Strapped to his back was a large quiver bristling with arrows and a massive recurved bow as clutched with casual strength in his gloved hand.

"We are traveling to the southern edge of the forest," Gaevin's voice was calm but tense. "We have no wish to cause trouble."

"You may go no farther in this direction," the man didn't so much as look in Gaevin's direction, acting as if he weren't even there.

Pery glanced at Gaevin, concerned at how tightly wound he was, his anger practically humming through his control. She turned a glare on the elf, who now stood squarely in their path. Not that it mattered to the elvish man at all, of course. He ignored everyone except for Shar, who returned his gaze with equanimity.

He began speaking to Shar in the graceful tongue of the elves. Pery listened to their speech, frowning. The longer they spoke, the more pronounced her frown became. It was as if she recognized the words they were saying. She felt as if she should understand what was being said.

Which was, of course, ridiculous. While she'd studied several languages–her teachers remarking she seemed to have an aptitude for them–she'd never studied the elvish languages. It was difficult finding anyone–anyone human that is–who could teach the language, who had any aptitude for speaking it at all. And few elves, while seeming to posses infinite patience and generosity of spirit, would unbend enough to actually teach a lowly human their language.

"Are you all right?" Crystal's quite voice turned her attention back to Gaevin.

"Was it just me," Star added, a slight frown on her pretty face, "or was that extremely rude?"

"Pay it no mind," Gaevin's voice was clipped, "that is more or less normal."

'_Was it?' _Pery frowned. It _had_ seemed somewhat rude. Even when she'd spent those months under the canopy, the elves she'd encountered had been invariably polite and cheerful.

Shar and the other elf finished their conversation and he melted back into the shadows. Pery wondered if she was the one who'd noticed the cold, hostile look he'd favored Gaevin with. A marked difference from the warm, courteous one he'd given Sharina._ ' An odd state of affairs to be sure,'_ Pery thought, as Shar guided her horse back to the little group, saying, "We have to take a detour. It will not take us more than a couple hours out of our way."

The bitter smile that crossed Gaevin's face shocked Pery, as he said, "Worried that we shall taint their precious Enclave, are they?"

Shar looked as shocked as Pery, but she didn't contradict him. He gave her a wry glance before turning his horse into the course the elvish man had directed them to follow.

The detour didn't hold them back for long and they came to a place deep in the forest. A place of ruins almost completely lost to time. The first they were aware of it was when one of the horses stepped onto an exposed stone. The ringing of metal on stone rang through the forest as clear as clarion bells announcing a mass. It was then they realized that the moss covered stones surrounding them were the remnants of an ancient city whose fall was so far in the past that it had all but crumble to dust.

They found a place to camp and bent over the instructions Dedrick's brother had given them. In it were details which enabled them to locate a doorway leading down into the ancient city's underbelly.

'_I certainly hope that we'll have a better time of it this time around,_' Pery thought as she stared into the dark, gaping maw before her.

It was decided that Crystal would remain behind to ten the horses. A decision she was less than thrilled with judging by the violent, discontented muttering the girl was doing even as the others were preparing the items they were to bring with them.

Then as dusk settled over the forest, the party began their descent into a darkness more stygian than the one falling over the forest.


	11. Chapter 10

Iltherian's Sword - 11 - Chapter 10

"That," Dedrick said as they began climbing up the crumbling stairs to daylight, "was easy."

Perytas, who was nursing a spectacular purple bruise from the day before, gave him an acid look. He countered with a smouldering look of his own that made her cheeks go ping and she averted her eyes.

"I mean, yes, we just spent three days in a dang, monster-infested dungeon," he said cheerfully as he leapt over a portion of the stairs that had crumbled away, leaving a gaping three-foot wide black hole, "but compared to what happened last time this was a children's dance."

While Gaevin and Dedrick helped Star to cross the gaping hold, the other three leapt over the hold on their own. Perytas had paused, admiring Shar's graceful leap, landing as lightly as thistledown and Dal's more energetic one, reminding her of a powerful wolf. She jumped, quite unaware of her own grace, landing with the exquisiteness of a deer.

"Just a few minutes more, then we can teleport to the Academy," Dedrick said lightheartedly.

"Perhaps we could spend a few days more?" Pery said hopefully, "I'm not often in this part of the country, and there's someone I'd dearly love to see while I'm here." As this was the most personal information that Pery had ever volunteered, Dedrick looked highly interested.

Pery stepped out into the open air, blinking to adjust to the sudden change of light. When her eyes finally focused, she froze, "Or maybe not."

As the others emerged, they were confronted with the same thing Pery had. Surrounding them were some eight-and-ten elvish archers. And all of them had their bows drawn, glinting arrow tips pointed with deadly accuracy at each of them. Crystal was being held by two elves off to the side, one of whom had a hand over her mouth, muffling any cries that she might've made to warn them. The vitriolic glare she was giving the elf who had his hand clamped over her mouth would have, had it had any power, reduced him to a pile of ashes.

"_What is the meaning of this?" _Shar demanded angrily in the Elvish language, _"How dare you?"_

"_How dare we?"_ One of the archers demanded just as angrily, _"The Enclave burns! And you and your companions are the only strangers under the canopy."_

Pery blinked, hastily schooling her features, hiding her astonishment. For she realized that she'd understood every word that had just been said. Somehow she knew that it was not simply her imagination suppling the words that might fit the tone and situation.

"_We cannot be the only strangers under the canopy,"_ Gaevin's voice was tight.

"_Be silent, _brec'chant," the archer snarled at Gaevin, eliciting a gasp from Shar. _"One such as you has no right even to speak!"_

"_Doria," _another archer spoke, sharply, _"you go too far. Remember to whom you are referring."_

"_You think he is above reproach because he is Lord Rechard's youngest son?" _Doria snarled, his lip curled contemptuously. _"This-this...half-breed dog? He was raised amongst the humans, tainted by them!"_

Pery clamped down on a started exclamation. So...this was the solution to the puzzle. She'd never met a half-elf before. It was astonishing that he looked full-blooded to her eyes. The reason that Gaevin was so approachable was because he'd been raised by a human mother.

"_He inherited his human mother's flaws and well could have caused this atrocity," _Doria's voice brought Pery back to reality with a thump. Just in time to seize one of Gaevin's arms as he snarled and lunged for Doria.

"_Son of a dog!" _Gaevin growled, struggling against the restraining hands of Dal, Pery and Dedrick, _"Say what you will about me, but you shall not impugn my mother in my hearing._"

"_Doria, you forget yourself," _the other archer said sharply, silencing the other before he could say anything more. _"Your pardon, my lord, Doria is hot-tempered and not usually so ill-mannered."_

Gaevin subsided, still glaring at Doria, who glared back unrepentant, _"Do not call me 'my lord', as Doria so ably pointed out, I am a _brec'chant_ and as such, I have no rank amongst the Clans. Just tell us why you accuse us...we have been down in the ruins for days."_

"_What Doria says is true,"_ the other archer said, _"the Enclave burns and you are the only strangers under the canopy."_

"_That is not necessarily true. You know as well as I that when the Enclave moves here for the summer that there are no patrols that cover the southwestern part of the forest."_

"_Humans are clumsy and would be detected by the outer patrols regardless. It had to have been one who had elvish blood in them," _Doria protested.

"_Hem'mel," _Gaevin said, wearily, _"you know me of old, as you knew my mother and father. Despite my shaky relationship with my father and half-brothers, have I ever done anything to harm the Enclave?"_

Pery was only slightly distracted when Star whispered to Dal, "What's going on?" Pery put out a hand, waving slightly to tell them to be quiet and wait. Dal, correctly interpreting the gesture, and although she didn't understand how the younger woman knew what was going on, put her hand on Star's arm and shook her head.

"_It was honor to know your lady-mother, my lord, and I know neither she nor her son would do anything,"_ at this Hem'mel glared at Doria, _"to harm the Enclave. There is, however, the question of who might have wished to harm the Enclave."_

Doria made a noise, as if he might burst into speech again, but he stopped. All the elves tensed, hearing something the humans couldn't. Pery strained her ears trying to hear and after a few minutes could hear hurried, but practically silent movement through the forest. A moment later an elvin ranger appeared in the clearing.

To stay that the ranger didn't fit the standard image of an elf was an understatement. For one, he was dirty; not just smudged with dirt, but covered practically from head to toe with forest litter, dried mud and what appeared to be soot. He was also much shorter than the archers and his hair, bound up in a long braid wasn't the shimmering colors of the others, but a somewhat duller brown. But his ears were just as elegantly pointed, his eyes as jewel-bright and his movements as subtly graceful as the others. Pery was suddenly struck with the idea that this then was a wood elf.

If high elves were the nobility of the elves, wood elves were the gentry. They were more numerous than high elves, even so they were also more elusive. One simply did not see wood elves any more than one saw the Lumini, the race of High Men that comprised the great Ruling Houses of Iris.

"_Forgive me, my lords," _the ranger's voice was lovely contralto of a trained musician, _"I bring news." _At Hem'mel's nod, he continued, _"We tracked those who set fire to the Enclave to the east of here. While we were doing sweeps, the scouts spotted new fires. Several human hamlets have been sacked and burned."_

Pery froze as Hem'mel asked, _"Which ones?"_

"_Red Darrow and Fern Hollow."_

Pery's eyes closed, and she murmured, "Oh dear gods no."

Ded shot Pery a sharp look as the elves continued speaking.

"_And these?" _Doria waved at the little group.

The wood elf shook his head, _"We found no sign that they had anything to do with each other."_

To his credit, Gaevin didn't spare a single glance at Doria, "_So that means we are free to go?"_

"_Yes, my lord," _Hem'mel bowed to Gaevin, who in turn turned a sword-edge glare on those still holding Crystal prisoner.

"_Release her,"_ his voice held the whip-crack of authority which produced instant results. Gaevin held out his hand to Crystal and gently pulled her away from the archers and Dal wondered if he knew how like a wolf he seemed and how much he was treating the young woman like a wolf treats its mate.

The instant she realized they were free, Pery bolted for the horses. Dal and Ded shared astonished looks before bolting after her. Pery didn't bother with saddle or bridle, but was on her horse's back, guiding with the shifting of weight and pressure of knees as she taught her so that by the time Dal and Ded reached their horses she was in full gallop.

Gaevin, Star and Crystal didn't immediately follow after although they felt the urge to do so. Instead they gathered their companions' gear and stuffed it into a hollowed out tree. As they saved the location onto memory scrolls, one of the archers sheepishly offered to keep an eye on it for them. By the time the rode out of camp, the other three were quite out of sight. Even had their trail not been patently obvious, the three left behind would have found their way for the trees and surroundings were filled with elvish scouts to guide their way.


	12. Chapter 11

Iltherian's Sword - 12 - Chapter 11

Branches and bushes whipped at Perytas, but she ignored them. In truth, she didn't even notice when she was clawed by the trees or underbrush. The only thing she was concerned with was a kind of panicked urgency that blotted out everything else.

Which was why she struggled so hard when, quite unexpectedly, she was lifted from Leaf's back. She struggled so violently that both she and her captor tumbled to the ground. The impact did not loosen her captor's hold and she continued struggling against the arms binding her.

"Let go of me!" she snarled, lashing out with hands and feet. Had she not been so lost to panic, she would've remembered her training and put hands to the various weapons she had on her person.

It was perhaps fortunate that she didn't remember, for she would've sorely regretted harming her captor. For it was Dedrick whom she struggled against, "Perytas–little one! Calm down! Whatever distresses you cannot be solved if you kill yourself or drive your horse to death."

"No! No! I have to get to them.; Let - me - go!" She twisted, managing to break his hold. She brought her knee up into the fork of his legs and a gasping, painful sound whistled from his lips. And while he was reacting to this pain, Pery followed through with a fist to his jaw that had him seeing stars.

When she would have gone for the kill, she froze stiffening. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she would've tumbled to the ground but for Dal's grip on her arm.

"Thanks," Ded gasped in a hoarse voice. "She has a mean right hook."

"And a wicked knee from the look of it," Dal's voice trembled with laughter, lowering the smaller woman to the ground.

"Aye, she does at that," even in his present state, he could still see the humor in his present predicament. "Is she going to be all right?"

"I think so, I think 'twas a bout of hysterics," Dal shifted Pery so that she reclined against Ded. Dal shot her cousin a knowing look which he returned with a cheeky unrepentant one of his own.

The elven ranger emerged from the shadows of the forest leading Ded and Pery's horse with him as Dal leaned forward and broke a smelling salt ampule under her nose. Pery jerked awake, gasping in surprise, not only at her sudden awakening, but at the feel of being embraced. She pursed her lips giving Ded a dry look, before turning to survey her surroundings.

She frowned, blinking, "How did I get here? The last I remembered we were in the clearing and..." she broke off as it came rushing back to her. "Fern Hollow. I have to get to Fern Hollow."

Ded's arms clamped firmly around her, keeping her from struggling free again. The ranger squatted–if one could call the graceful motion he performed by such a vulgar term–down at her feet, "You are making for Red Fern Bridge?" At her nod, he shook his head, "Impossible. Unusually heavy rains in the mountains all spring, washed it out, oh, a couple months back. Lord Hourrus is waiting for the rains and river swell to subside before rebuilding it." He saw her frustrated look, "Your best bet would be Greenswarth Bridge. I shall show you a path which will save you a day's journey."

Pery struggled to her feet, with Ded now helping her rather than holding her back, "My thanks."

The rest of the party rode up at this juncture. Dal leaned forward and whispered something in Pery's ear that made her color an interesting shade of red. She gave Ded a sheepish look, but said nothing as she mounted Leaf and took a memory scroll from Gaevin before teleporting back to retrieve her gear. They then rode from the clearing, following the elven ranger north toward Greenswarth Bridge.

When they made camp that night, Pery went to Ded and plucked at his sleeve until he bent down so she could murmur, "I'm sorry...about what happened earlier," she wouldn't, couldn't, meet his eyes, "and thank you."

The corners of his eyes crinkled and his dimples made an appearance. He didn't say anything. He simply brushed her cheek gently with his knuckles.


	13. Chapter 12

Iltherian's Sword - 13 - Chapter 12

A day later they crossed the bridge. No one said much of anything as they did. Not that anyone could've hear anything that was said. The roar of the river prevented it.

Pery regarded the raving water with awe. She'd been over the Grey Kite river any number of times, but she'd never seen the river so high, so close to washing even such a high bridge as the Greenswath Bridge. Under normal conditions, the river flowed some thirty feet below the bridge, but now a mere four feet separated them from the water.

The water tumbled and roared with terrifying speed and power. The bridge trembled as the water frothed violently about the pilings. Normally a slow flowing river, now it raged as powerfully as Bram's Rapids in Egeha did. Although the water here wasn't the blue-green of those waters, but was a brackish brown, filled with mud and forest debris.

The trail the ranger led them on wound up and along cliffs above the river; the cliffs where the grey kites which gave the river its name roosted every year. Although she'd been in this area any number of times, she'd no idea this path would lead to Fern Hollow; she mentally searched the map but it showed only that it lead to Merac Castle and some of the smaller villages along the Grey Kite.

A little more than halfway up the cliffs Pery became aware presences shadowing them in the forest. A quick glance around told her that all except the two mages had detected their shadows. The others had, by unspoken consent, drawn their horses in and around the mages in order to protect these new adventures.

Pery scanned the path trying to determine where they would be set upon. She urged her horse closer to the ranger so she could murmur, "Where?"

"There is a rise ahead," Toris murmured back, "about half a mile where the path cuts between two rocky outcroppings. Plenty of high ground and lots of nooks and crannies for villains to hide in."

Pery nodded, dropping back and sharing their situation with the sisters. Astonished as they were at their imminent danger, they were also game enough ready their wands for the fight ahead of them. It was to be hoped that a goodly number of those tracking them were less experienced villains. Pery's lips quirked into a dry smile grin, knowing the chances of it were slim, but one could always hope.

As the little group topped the rise, they saw a number of people waiting for them. Quite a mixed bag of classes, Dal thought scanning those who had perched themselves about the rocks. She felt shock as she recognized two of the rogues.

Rogues she knew quite well in fact. Rogues she had never thought to see amidst such villains. As if her glare scorched them, the two turned and encountered her gaze. Dal had the satisfaction of seeing both of them go scarlet and look elsewhere.

Dal scowled wondering why Bobcat and Nevi were here with this group in the first place. She had to concede–reluctantly–that it was more conceivable that Bobcat would join such a group, than Nevi.

Dal knew Bobcat from her salad days as a rogue; knew her faults and foibles better than most. Bobcat was the kind to naturally fall into mischief at any time or place; she had an explosive temper when irked–which Dal acknowledged was quite often. Sometimes that temper had landed the younger woman in the suds on a number of occasions.

Nevi, however, was a completely different story. She was a kind, mild-tempered person who always–for the most part anyway–thought through the consequences. She never entered into any deliberate mischief and rarely had she ever lost her cool.

"Oh look," an amused female voice called out, "at who's come to play."

The voice was familiar to Dal and she looked around to see who spoke. Her eyes touched on her cousin and she noted how pale he'd gone at the sound of the voice. Familiar then to both of them, and by the look on Ded's face, an unwelcome sound.

If she didn't quite remember the voice, one glance was quite enough for her to remind her. Standing atop a stand of rocks, was a young woman of the most striking beauty. The kind of beauty that could distract any man from his purpose. Thick blond hair was artfully and intricately braided around her face, and the thick braid was arranged about her head like a coronet. Her eyes were big and soft velvet brown, thickly lashed. She had perfect rosebud lips, rouged in such a way as to invite kisses. She had lovely delicate features and a slender neck. She was outfitted as a rogue, and obviously was well off enough to afford the best armor and weapons.

Fury shot through her with the force of an avalanche. There came from her the low growl of a wolf, "Damarie."

"Ah, Dali," the other woman smirked down at them from her perch in the rocks above, "and Ded. How long it's been. Ded, you're looking well," her voice dropped to a sultry purr.

Dal's growl deepened, "Harlot, neither of us gave you leave to be so familiar with us. Remember your place."

Pery was shocked. She'd known Dal for a number of years–albeit causally but still she'd never met anyone less concerned with status than Dal. She must really dislike the woman to act in such a fashion.

From the way the woman paled at the rebuke, and the quickly suppressed fury on the woman's face, the feeling was entirely mutual. Watching the two of them was like watching to predators warily circling one another. Pery felt a chill because the younger woman reminded her forcefully of one of the spike canines from the prison.

"Oh my Dali, the _years_ have not been kind," Damarie tittered, raising Pery's hackles. "Perhaps one too many days in the sun? You look positively _haggish._"

Dal's lips curled, "I would rather be a hag than a whore. At least, I got where I am by my own skill, rather than spreading my legs for any fool with a big enough purse."

Instead of being angered by the deliberate insult, the other woman seemed amused by it, even laughing out loud, "Ah, Dal, such wit. But I shan't be angered by it. It's true after all. Spreading my legs for those fools has made me insanely rich," Damarie's chin rose and she assumed a smug smile, "I don't see what your skill has brought you except that weatherbeaten look."

Dal's lips twitched, "Damarie, I have no need to make money the way you do. I am, after all, the daughter of Sir Beyah of Aeris. If I want money, I need only apply to him."

Damarie flushed, the implication clear in Dal's words. That no matter how much money Damarie might procure and no matter how humble the work Dal might accept, because of the blood running in Dal's veins, it was she who would always hold a higher station, would be given precedence in all things. Damarie might rise to glittering heights, obtain opulent wealth as a courtesan, but that's all she would ever be, with no chance to rise higher.

Pery had heard of Sir Beyah of Aeris. One would be hard-put to find anyone in Iris who didn't know of the Hero of Chyo Bridge.

His exploits were famous, but the Battle of Chyo had elevated Sir Beyah to legendary status. It was said that he had singlehandedly held Chyo Bridge against the forces of the Baron of Uku, who had led a bloody campaign to wrest control of the lands of western Merac from the Baron of Honde, Beyah's liege lord. In the end, Beyah had killed Uku on that bridge, and in doing so had gained the favor of both Honde and Merac's king. And he had been rewarded richly, with both lands and money. To top things off, Beyah had proven himself to be an excellent steward and his lands had prospered and, as a consequence, so had his coffers.

Because their relationship had been casual, Pery had had no idea who Dal's father was. She'd known that Dal was gentry or nobility, but nothing about her family or connections. Not that it mattered much, since Dal never used her parents' consequence to advance herself until now and Pery wouldn't have been impressed anyway. But she was tickled that Dal used it now, since it served to annoy Damarie so that the woman's face tightened and went almost ugly for a split second.

Then, as if she realized that, the lines of Damarie's face softened, her lips curling into such a smirk that Pery twitched wanting with all her might to smack it off, "My my what wonderful horses you have. I'm sure they'll be of great help to us, don't you agree? Dismount," her voice hardened into the whip crack of command.

Even if Pery wanted to protest, she didn't. She'd trained Leaf since she'd been a tiny pony, small enough to shelter under Pery's legs in action. Leaf had been trained not accept the hand of anyone that Pery hadn't allowed. Let whoever dared lay a finger on her bridle learn the folly of it when they came away with a bloody stump.

And indeed that is what happened. A knight roughly grabbed Leaf's bridle and was rewarded by a round eye and bared teeth. His ragged scream cut through the air as Leaf went for the knight's neck, ripping through flesh as if it had been made of onion skin paper. They all stood in shock as the man fell to the round, blood staining the ground an obscene bright red. One of the titans who had Shar's horse, cursed and started toward Leaf, loosening the huge axe strapped to his back. As he did, Pery called a command to Leaf that made her buck and lash out with her hooves until the villains fell back and she bolted through the gap and galloped for the forest.

Shar was shocked when an archer came forward and healed the knight. Never would she have dreamed that one with elvish blood would stoop to such villainy. Yet at least six here had elvish blood. True they were all half-bloods, but they were still elves. She fought to hide her annoyance when she met Gaevin's wry gaze.

When the knight was healed, he loomed aggressively over Pery, shoving his bearded face close to hers, snarling, "You did that a-purpose."

Pery stood her ground, fighting the urge to flinch away from miasma of aggression and unwashed body, refusing intimidation, "Yes." Someone gasped, but she ignored it, "What of it?"

"You'll pay for that," his large hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a threat. "I shall have some fun with you before I dispose of you."

He didn't smile so much as bared his teeth. He was not an unhandsome man, so it made it all the more chilling knowing the ugliness underneath. This was not a revelation to her–well-versed as she was in the ways of the world–but even that knowledge didn't diminish the chill.

"Ah-ah-ah, Sir Moiria," Damarie laughed as the king knight released Pery's arm and throat, stepping back and Damarie leapt lightly to the ground, "Patience. We've still most work to do this day, but you'll have plenty of time to play with your new toy tonight. Just as I will have time," she moved close to a hard-jawed Ded, "to play with mine."

"I have never been, nor shall I ever be your toy," Ded's voice was sharp as shattered glass. "And I shall die before I ever will be."

Instead of anger, Damarie responded with a pout. An expression which, Pery reluctantly conceded, was extremely becoming. She was after all an extremely beautiful woman, and she'd used her beauty to fulfill her goals before. It was this ruthless determination that added a touch of frost to her beauty.

Pery's hackles rose, when Damarie walked her fingers up Ded's belly to his chest, where she began drawing little shapes there, "Oooo, Ded, don't be so cold. I'm sure we'll have a splendid time together."

'_Oh no,'_ Pery thought, something in the back of her mind snapping, _'that's it.'_

Pery was fast; she had her crossbow loose in a second. But Dal was already moving. She was standing behind Damarie and whispering in her ear by that time. Pery could read the words her friend was speaking, "You have grown soft, Damarie. You've spent all your time on your back instead of honing your skills. Be glad I do not bully the weak. My friend, however, is another story."

Pery pulled the trigger, a kill shot if it hadn't been deflected by the shield of one of Damarie's companions. He shoved the woman out of the way before turning to engage Dal.

"Ah," Dal grinned wickedly and leapt past his sword and shield. She grabbed the straps of his armor, swinging her legs up, then back down. She curled her body in, using her momentum to drag him forward. Planting her feet on his abdomen, she rolled along the curve of her back and heaved him through the air a good ten feet. She continued the roll into a crouch, her eyes already scanning sudden fighting around them. Without looking at the other girl, she shouted, "Get her, Pery."

A needless command, because Pery had already engaged with Damarie, who she discovered was at a similar level. Damarie slashed at Pery, her blades crackling with energy, a move which Pery countered with her own blades. A tight grin flashed across Pery's face at the surprised expression which flitted across the assassin girl's face. Others, even assassins themselves, tended to forget that both assassins and rangers were trained along the same lines until they chose a specialized profession. Pery continued mastering techniques and fighting with an assassin's short swords long after most rangers began favoring the crossbow, a practice she'd learned from Dal.

As they clashed and feinted, Pery judged their opponent. Damarie was a vicious fighter, pressing every advantage and using every dirty trick in her fighting; Pery dodged a number of dirt clots and loose rock the other woman kicked her way. Damarie was stronger, but Pery realized her technique and speed was better. And they were about evenly matched in tactics; Damarie might be twisted, but she kept her cool just as Pery did.

So it would come down to which of the two came up with the better plan.

Meanwhile, the sisters were causing some chaos of their own. They might be a trifle green when it came to real-life experience, but they made up for it in innovation. Sometime during their studies they'd come up with a number of combination attacks that seemed to more than double their attack power. They must have trained together a great deal for timing had to be and was perfect. They maintained their cool and focus even at a point when a massive titan rushed them raising a battle axe with blades that dwarfed both sisters–and probably outweighed them as well–in a terrifying display. Abruptly, the titan's charge faltered, stopped and his axe dropped from nerveless fingers as he stared stupidly at the massive hole where his chest had once been. StarShade stepped nimbly aside as he crashed to the ground.

Gaevin, having seen the sister's attack even while he dealt with the sorcerer he fought, made a mental note not to make either of them mad at him. They were so innocuous seeming he'd probably be flattened before he knew what hit him.

Flattened he might yet be–he ducked, avoiding the specialist's scythe, which would've lopped off his head if he hadn't been paying attention. He lashed out with his fallarm, the bladed end slicing the air as close to the other sorcerer as he could get, making him dance back, a look of contempt showing even under the painted blindfold he wore. An expression which changed to shock when something white smashed into his face. A second later, he screamed in pain when a fiery wolf bit through his tendons, his legs folding under him. His scream ceased abruptly when that wolf tore out his throat. Gaevin didn't spare the sorcerer another glance as he sent his elementals to harry another opponent.

Shar, meanwhile, picked off a number of fighters as they moved in from the perimeters of the fight. Still, she wasn't safe. She took a bolt in the side from a ranger, who took an arrow in the eye a second later. She growled, then screamed as she yanked the arrow from her side. She healed herself, and the little party, then rolled out of the way, ducking under the double swipe of a royal knight's blades. She came up between his blades and drove her long dagger between the armor joint under his arm. She yanked the dagger free, adroitly avoiding blood spray. She left the knight on the ground, blood bubbling from the wound and went in search of more prey.

Ded, meanwhile, was pressed on two sides. His blades flashed and flickered in the sun and on his face he wore a grim smile which was little more than a rictus. It was, perhaps, fortunate that only one of is opponents was a royal knight or else he might've ended up a casualty. Instead one of them was a massive titan with an equally massive sword. While the titan was a lot faster than one supposed from his looks, but Ded was more than a match for him. Even while holding the other royal knight off, he was able to deal with the titan. An there–his blade flickered in, out, blood spattering him as the titan dropped to the ground, thrashing as the life drained from him. Relieved of his extra opponent, Ded pressed his attack on the other knight. By no means an easy fight, for they were more-or-less on equal footing. Both managed to wound the other before Ded, pressing the advantage of his opponent's misstep, lopped off first an arm then ran his sword through the screaming man's throat.

Dal had taken position in a relatively secure point. Crystal had taken an arrow to the thigh and Star dragged her over, sheltering behind Dal until Shar could make her way to them. They were crouching in a hollow in some rocks, which gave them a sense of security.

False as it turned out.

Star was the first to notice; a small shower of pebbles, the sound of which was drowned out by the cacophony of battle, fell near the sisters. Star would've missed it too, but for a single tiny stone landing on the back of her hand. She looked up and shouted, "Dal!"

Dal swivelled, looking first to Star, then up to find another Ranger, standing at the top of the rocks, his crossbow aimed straight for her heart. Her heart sank at the malicious smile spread across his face.

But even as his finger tightened on the trigger, he stiffened in surprise. His shot went wide, landing harmlessly in the dirt as he stared stupidly at the glowing blade emerging from his chest.

Nevi yanked her blade from his back and booted him from his place. He landed a few feet from Dal. Shar, who'd been making her way to them, jumped back to avoid being crushed and gave Nevi an acid look. A look that Nevi returned with a sweet smile at odds with the blood now dripping from her blades. Then she jumped off the rocks in search of other prey.

"That girl has a lot of explaining to do," Dal muttered to Shar as she shot a knight through the thigh and cursed. Shar laughed humorlessly as she set about tending to Crystal.

Pery was flagging by this time, as was her opponent. They stood confronting each other, daggers raised, breath soughing harshly in and out of their lungs. Pery's eyes were bloodshot and streaming from a handful of dirt Damarie had tossed in her face. Every muscle was tense, every sense focused on the other's face. Each was searching for the least sign of an opening.

And Damarie thought she found it first, rushing at Pery, her blades flashing. But whatever it was she thought she saw, she was mistaken, for Pery was more than ready for her and their blades crashed together. Pery whipped her blade up and Damarie shrieked, a hand to her shoulder, red drops of blood glittering in the sun as she clutched at the gaping gash newly opened in her shoulder.

Damarie had got a blow in, though not so effective as Pery's. All she'd managed to do was to rip apart Pery's mask and draw a thin red line open across her cheek. A razor thin wound that wouldn't even leave a scar.

An insolent smile spread across Pery's face as she casually stripped the tattered remnants of her mask from her face. Just as casually, she raised her dagger, still right red with fresh blood in an intemperate dig at the other girl.

Damarie snarled and would've gone for the other girl again, but was held back by an archer. A knight interposed himself between the two rogues. Pery heard the sisters exclaim, but kept watching his waving blade. She fought the urge to bite her lip because she recognized this knight was a much stronger, better fighter than she. She'd have no chance against him if it came down to a fight between them. Reluctantly she backed away. Once she'd gotten far enough away, the archer and knight both hustled a protesting Damarie to a safer location.

Pery's attention was drawn by a fight between two assassins who'd been on the same side . Nevi was battling against one of her compatriots. The woman had an outraged expression on her face, "You traitorous witch–!"

"No traitor am I," Nevi cut in, the calm amusement in her voice made the other assassin snarl and curse. "We might've joined you, but make no mistake, we were never with you. And even if we had been..."

The other rogue stiffened and looked down, staring uncomprehendingly at the glowing tip of a blade protruding from her chest. She fell the warmth of a body pressing against her back before a soft voice spoke, "...we would still never agree to killing our fiends."

Bobcat allowed the body to slide from her blade. She grinned through her mask at Nevi, who grinned back and they moved into a position closer to Shar and the sisters.

Damarie stared at the defectors with unbelieving venom. She drew back her lips in a wordless snarl. She allowed herself to be drawn away from the flight. There was a shout and the raiders abandoned the field.

Dal meanwhile was still engaged with a specialist, who seemed more skilled with his scythe than his magic, since once his armored form had worn off, he abandoned the use of it and favored his physical attacks over magic. He had the advantage of reach while Dal countered with speed–her crossbow had been knocked from her hand almost immediately–and in this they were more or less evenly matched.

A horizontal sweep transitioned into an overhand, vertical strike. Dal sidestepped easily, then leapt agilely onto the head of the scythe, driving it deeply into the earth. She swivelled and her heel made solid contact with his cheek. His jaw snapped with a loud crack and the momentum of it spun him off the edge of the cliff they'd been fighting near. He went over with a blood curdling shriek that cut off abruptly a second later.

Something streaked past Pery and she stood blinking stupidly at the receding back of a knight making a beeline straight for Dal, who was peering over the edge of the cliff after the sorcerer. Pery raised the crossbow at his back when something closer to Dal caught her eye.

Invisibility was a skill she didn't use often. She was a bit clumsy at it, to be truthful. It could be an effective tool for a rouge skillful enough at it. Invisibility was an asset most times, allowing a rogue to slip in and out of dangerous situations unseen.

However, one could overcome it simply by being observant. While it rendered the rogue invisible, it didn't effect the environment surrounding the rogue. So things such as puffs of dust rising from the ground from footfalls, for instance, could give the location of a rogue away readily.

And it was this very thing that drew Pery's attention. From a rogue making straight for Dal.

Pery switched targets, but too late. Dal grunted in surprise and jerked forward, hitting the ground heavily. The rogue who attacked her, suddenly sprang into view, arrows springing from his neck and back. As Pery watched, a crackling blade joined the arrow in the man's neck, and he jerked, also dropping over the edge.

The cliff edge gave a sharp crack and crumbled under Dal. Even as she yelled and disappeared over the edge of the cliff, the knight, who'd blazed past Pery an instant before, threw himself at the edge of the cliff. Pery ran upon the edge an instant later, finding that the knight had caught Dal, his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist. Dal had his wrist in a death grip and was dangling free from the cliff.

It was very odd, Pery thought later, as she was musing over what had happened. Not so much about Dal's good luck, but about her reaction to the rescue.

For although she had been pallid from the initial fright, her face had been completely clear of fear. Instead there was an expression of delight as she grinned fiercely at the knight, "What took you?"

The knight wore an identical expression on his face, his grin wolfish, "Come, come, you know you love it when I ride to the rescue at the last moment."

"Curse it," Bobcat said mildly in the background as she peered over the edge of the cliff, "I rather liked that dagger. 'Tis a good thing I like you two or I'd make you climb down there to get it back for me."

Neither of them paid her any mind.


	14. Chapter 13

Iltherian's Sword - Chapter 13

Damarie snarled, glaring into space as a half-elven archer attempted to heal the wound Pery had inflicted.

The archer sat back, slightly paler than he'd been before. For an elf, even one of the half-elven, it was tantamount to pouring down with sweat. He shook his head, "I cannot heal it all the way; there is something hindering me."

Damarie shrieked, sweeping items cluttering the tabletop in front of her off, "It's that little bitch's fault! She poisoned that blade. Now it's going to scar," she smashed her fists into the table. "Damn her. I'm going to string her up by her entrails!"

"Ah, good," a new amused voice answered. As if the voice were a sedative, the energy and people in the room immediately calmed, "I like to hear such initiative. Here let me look at that."

The archer yielded his position with a respectful bow and sat nearby, watching the woman as she examined Damarie's wound. There was a moment of silence before the woman murmured, "Oh my, you do not see this often nowadays."

"See what?" Damarie demanded, looking cross-eyed down at her shoulder.

"Poison from the sap of the blackroot tree," the woman commented. "A moment and I shall have this healed with no scar, but first..."

She reached an elegant hand into the pouch attached to her girdle, withdrawing a tiny phial filled with a bright violet liquid. She allowed three bright drops to fall on a fingertip before drawing it along the wound. She caught the interested gaze of the archer and smiled, "Bile from a dark goddess boiled down with the water of a palm fruit."

"Ah," the archer nodded, sitting back and let the woman finish healing Damarie.

Damarie was still muttering furious invectives at Pery under her breath. The woman regarded her with amusement for a moment then commanded, "Enough, my dear. There shall be ample time for revenge, I'm sure, that what I have in mind will cause her pain nonetheless."

Damarie's eyes lit up, as if she was a child who had been offered as many sweet cakes as she could eat, "Oh really? Please, go on..."


	15. Chapter 14

Iltherian's Sword - 15 - Chapter 14 - editing

"Now, hun," Dal grinned from behind clenched teeth at Nevi and Bobcat, "explain yourselves."

Nevi blushed, looking sheepish, "Well, you see, it's like this..."

Dal could see Bobcat roll her eyes as she finished for Nevi, "...you're not gonna believe this but we're on a secret mission."

Dal's eyebrows climbed so high they disappeared under her bangs, and Bobcat laughed. "See, Hun, I told you she wouldn't believe it."

"But it's true," Nevi waved her arms, earnestly, "we really are on a secret mission." She leaned forward, holding up her index finger. "Two weeks ago we were summoned to stand before the Master Council."

Bobcat laughed again, but Dal could see that she had gone pale under her mask at the memory, "Caused me quite a bit of anxiety when I first got it."

"THAT I believe," Dal looked at her from under half-lowered eyelids, and her voice was wry. "All that chicanery you get mixed up in, I can well imagine. Serves you right to sweat for a bit," she grinned sharply at Bobcat's narrowed gaze. "But please, go on."

Nevi rolled her eyes at Bobcat's snicker and continued, "The Masters have better things to do with their time than to worry over a single nit's peccadillos, Brat."

Dal snickered this time as Bobcat mock-reeled at the insult and waved her hand at Nevi, "Oh stop. You know how she is when she gets going."

"All right, all right," Nevi laughed. "Settle down, you brat, and let me finish."

So Bobcat did and Nevi told of how the Masters had spoken of a loose band of raiders who were scourging small villages across Iris. Whoever they were, they were highly-organized and, apparently, they were part of the same band. The strategy was the same for all the raids. There was some concern, of course, about a large, heavily armed and well-trained force, and what kind of damage that force could do. The Masters had sent them on a mission: infiltrate the band, gather as much information as they could and get out.

"It was a good thing you came along," Bobcat said, crossing her arms. "They were starting to get suspicious, since neither of us has actually participated in any of the raids."

"Yes," Nevi leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, "not all of them are completely blinded by selfishness and gold to care. Bobcat and I had both decided to get out anyway, since we'd gathered as much information as we could."

"I'm afraid the rumors of a large force are true," Bobcat said worriedly. "And the truth of them is much worse than we thought."

"How so?" Dedrick asked.

"This is not just a band of well-organized bandits," Bobcat answered flatly.

"It's an army," Nevi finished in a voice just as grim as Bobcat's.

They had found out quite a bit for such a short period of time. The Masters had paired the two for good reason: Nevi had an innate gift for listening while Bobcat's talents ran more along the lines of asking unsuspicious questions which drew out confidences. And both were experts at sneaking about.

"A surprising amount of their information was written," Nevi commented, a small frown on her face. "Of course it was probably only useful for the leadership, since most of the foot soldiers can't read."

"Yes, an unusually large number are unlettered," Bobcat added.

A disadvantage that, Dal knew. Bobcat and Nevi both knew how to read and well too. Unusually, rogues–both rangers and assassins alike–were amongst the best educated of the fighter classes. They were not the warrior elite, no paladins or King's Guard here. But for these two classes, it was an asset to read. Many rangers and assassins were hired to infiltrate great houses or clans and seek information and they often had to deal with documents. If one could not read them, one did not know what those documents were and if they were important for their clients. As such, many who worked in this class were born of the gentry or the merchant classes, and the rest paid handsomely to be taught the skills they needed.

Pery laughed, an ugly bitter sound, "The less you know, the less likely you'll question your leaders, your betters."

"Yes," Bobcat stared thoughtfully at Pery. "An effective, if rudimentary, form of control."

They spoke a long time of what they had found. Pery, for the most part, sitting silent, absorbing everything that was being said. This too was part in parcel to the changes that were happening to her. She could remember everything around her. Everything. From sight, sound, taste, even smells did not escape her.

She was afraid, so very afraid. She did not know if this was normal. She did not know if this was normal for anybody.

More importantly, she did not know if this was normal for her. For although she had lived over 20 years in Iris, she had no idea who she really was. As a small child, she had been found wandering, dazed and alone, in the wilds of Juno. She had no memories of her family or country. When she had spoken, all she had done, she had been told, was babble a single word over and over, "Perytas." So that was what they named her.

They being her masters; her owners. For she had been found by a less-than-reputable knight, who had proceeded to the nearest village and sold her to a merchant there. Who had, in turn, sold her to Mistress Rhasa, the local Squire's wife, who had, as it happened, had been looking for a new scullery maid.

Pery rested her forehead on her knees, sweating. Never before had she missed knowing her heritage. Perhaps if she knew it, she might know if this was normal. Perhaps then these changes would not frighten her so much.

Finally the conversation about their mission wound down. It turned to why they were in the forest. Pery felt more than a little uncomfortable but decided to trust them, "Red Hollow is my home. After I became a journeyman, I wandered into Red Hollow one day. Just outside the village, I found a grove of trees..." She stopped, unsure how to explain the sense of peace that had suffused her when she had found the little glade where she decided to build her home.

"This might sound awful, but the fate of the villagers means less to me than if my home has been hit," she bit her lip. "They were more welcoming than other villages I've visited. And I feel...vaguely guilty for not worrying about them so much as my home and my...children."

Dal blinked and dropped the halter she was cleaning in the dirt between her feet. There was a loud crash and a thud. Pery whipped around, finding Ded picking himself up off the ground, having tripped over a pile of gear near the horses. The elven ranger had turned away, his shoulders shaking, while Gaevin, who apparently had the exact same sense of humor, reached down a hand and helped Ded back to his feet, saying in a voice that quivered with laughter, "You really ought to watch your step there, old son."

"What is with the reaction, Hun, is it so inconceivable she could be a mother?" The knight, who had saved Dal from her fall, snickered as he picked up the fallen halter. Never had anyone looked so good as they snickered was this young man did, Pery thought. His was the kind of exotic beauty that was sure to make him stand out anywhere. Skin tanned dark not only from sun but from heritage, and hair as black and shining as obsidian, and fell to his waist in straight locks as well as a number of tight braids woven through with ribbons and strings of beads. Amber-bright eyes startling in their clarity laughed out of a face as finely chiseled as a masterwork of a great sculptor. He was tall, heavily built and slim-hipped.

Pery was sure that he had more than his fair share of attention from the opposite sex. Which would, of course, account for his towering confidence; no modest negation of his role in saving Dal from the fall, he accepted praise as if it were no less than he deserved. Pery grinned secretly, knowing that Dal had taken it upon herself to keep his ego from reaching staggering proportions. She had noticed that she had on more than one instance punctured it with sharply placed insults. Insults which were taken without demure from the young man, even received with a sharp grin or a roar of laughter in return.

Dal gave the knight, who she had introduced as Ben Hat'ein, an acid look, then planted her foot squarely on his shoulder and pushed. He must have had either extraordinary strength or balance, because he merely swayed slightly, laughing. He said something Pery could not make out but the other rogue laughingly replied, "Watch your tongue, Brat, or I might just take you up on that offer."

Pery had never seen anyone's face light up so brightly as this young man's as he asked, "Really? I–"

"Go on, Perytas," Bobcat interrupted as Nevi snorted in a vain attempt at hiding her laughter, "they'll go on like that for hours if you don't stop them."

"My children and my life are in that cottage in Red Hollow," Pery shook her head, rubbing at her temple. "Birscha will be little or no protection for them," at Nevi's puzzled look, she explained. "She's their nursemaid. And getting on in years, I'm afraid."

"Mira, my daughter, and Phen, my son, are both adopted," maybe it was her imagination, but it seemed like the atmosphere cleared when she said that. "They are blood-kin to each other; their parents had died of the Green River plague, four years ago. Mira was seven and Phen four, and living on the streets because they had no other blood-kin to go to. Had I not found them, they both would have been bound for the slave blocks or some brothel."

"I'm sorry," she rested her forehead on her knees again, "but when I heard that Red Hollow had been attacked, I panicked. I–," she stopped, a sudden thought striking her. She turned her frosty green gaze on Bobcat and Nevi, "You two were part of their group. You could tell me if–"

"No," Nevi shook her head, real regret on her pretty face. "This group is large and they're broken up into different units. The group that attacked Red Hollow is different than the one we were in."

"Oh," Pery was deflated, "of course." She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them. "I have to go home. If they're gone, I need to lay them to rest. They deserve that at the very least."

Pery cupped her hand under the sparkling water of the stream and splashed her face, with it. Because she was so unused to sharing, even the little she had given up to the other, she had been overcome with a horrible vulnerability. She had fought down the panic at the feeling and, as soon as she could, she slipped away. She did not need anyone knowing how shaky she was.

As she stared into the water, a small round shape swam by. She blinked, then plunged her hand into the water. She smiled at the small turtle she had pulled from the stream. The shell was a bit bigger than the palm of her hand and she was careful to hold the turtle by the neck, because she knew by painful experience the crushing force in its beak. It had horny protuberances out of the top and bottom of the shell and a small one jutting from the top of its beak. She sat a moment, staring at it struggling in her grip; Phen loved horned turtle soup.

Her lips tightened, struggling to hold back tears. She refused to believe that her family was dead. She refused. The very possibility of it was enough to make her feel as if her heart was being ripped from her chest.

She shook her head, rising to her feet. She dumped the turtle into one of the buckets she had brought with her. She wandered down the banks of the stream, looking for more turtles. Which seemed abundant in this area, because she was able to pluck nine turtles from the water, more than enough to make a thick soup.

She took the time to deal with the turtles and offal before she headed back to camp. There was a good amount of meat and enough shells to serve as bowls. The shells could be kept and sold later, she knew. She felt a bitter laugh wanting to escape. Even now, with the possibility of her family all dead and she was still thinking along such mercenary lines. It was simply part of her nature now after all these years, but it still made her feel as if she were some sort of unnatural creature; warped and twisted.

As she was walking back, she was sure she spotted something in a thicket she was walking by. She frowned at the deeps shadows, certain that she'd seen some kind of movement. She set the buckets down and walked silently until she could see clearly into the thicket.

And what she saw as Dal and Ben entwined with each other. It did not seem a particularly passionate embrace, they were simply holding each other closely. But there was such an intimate air about them that Pery froze at Ben's quiet laugh, "Why do you always do this? Just hold me like this, when we meet?"

The man had a beautiful voice, lyrical and deep with a lilting accent that Pery could not place. The tones, loving and gentle, although not aimed at her, nevertheless made Pery's toes curl in her boots. She wondered briefly how she might react if they had been. But it also made her abruptly realize she was intruding on something that she knew was meant for no other person than the two embracing under the trees.

Ben laughed again, "Now 'tis time for a proper greeting, no?" When he lowered his head, Dal made a half-hearted sound of protest, and then the embrace did become passionate.

Pery blushed then backed away, retrieved the bucket and padded silently back to camp.

Ben broke the kiss and Dal, flustered as usual under his gaze, blushed and buried her face in his chest. He stroked her hair softly and murmured in her ear, gentle sounding words in his native language. She blushed again, under their influence and burrowed closer, her ear against his breast.

Under her ear, she could hear the beating of his heart. It was racing, exactly as hers did every time he was near. She felt a surge of feminine satisfaction that for all his staggering confidence, she had the same effect on him that he had on her.

"So are you ever going to tell me?" His voice rumbled from his chest.

She smiled against his neck, closing her eyes, murmuring, "Perhaps...one day."

She breathed deeply, taking in his scent, redolent of warm desert winds, spices and an underlying tang that was all his own.

She WOULD tell him, one day. When she figured out exactly how to explain it. At least to him.

From what she learned about him, he grew up in a very close-knit, affectionate family. He grown up touching and being touched by loved ones. He had no difficulties finding the words to express his feelings. Nor had he any compunction at simply letting loose when he his passions overtook him; he could bellow like a bull when he was riled.

She, on the other hand, had grown up learning to hold herself back, to control herself and keeping her emotions in check. Amongst the gentry and the elite, open and free emotional expression was disapproved of. It was considered a sign of improper upbringing and lack of breeding. Thinking back, she could only remember a handful of times being held by her family was she grew up. And half of those were childish embraces between her and Ded. Her family had been a fond rather than loving family.

But when she met Ben, he had made her skittish with his insistence upon invading her personal space. When he had swept her into their first embrace, she had been reluctant, but she had been shocked by the feeling of safety and content that had suffused her when he had wrapped his arms around her. Even more shocking was the sense of bereavement that had swept over her when the embrace ended.

Then, the next time he had held her, she found herself clutching at him when he would have pulled away. She had burrowed against him, savoring his warmth and his unique scent. But most of all relishing simply being held.

It, of course, was not the only reason. But that was a subject that she dared not scrutinize closely at the moment.

Ben brought her out of her musings when he cupped her chin and kissed her softly, then hard when she bit his lip playfully. After a moment, he groaned and put her away from him, his breathing ragged. A half-amused, half-frustrated laugh escaped him, "Come, love, let us rejoin the others before I forget myself completely and take you here and now.

Dal, while maintaining the chastity her station required, was no delicate, sheltered girl, and knew full well what that entailed. And she blushed furiously because the idea both titillated and shocked her. Especially since she was leaning, more and more lately, toward surrendering to him. The very thought of surrendering any part of herself terrified her. As much as she trusted and...

No better no pursue that line of thought.

So she took his hand, gave him a swift, soft kiss and led him back to camp.

Later Dal dropped down next to Pery, sitting a little apart from the others. She wrapped her arms around her knees and they sat in companionable silence for a little while.

"I'm sorry," Pery murmured after a little while. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"No, I never thought you did," Dal smiled, wryly. "You would spy for money, but not on a friend, I think."

"No, not on a friend," she agreed. "I won't say anything."

"Thank you," Dal smiled. "'Tis not a secret precisely. We just do not speak of it. I...ah...still have my doubts." She grinned as Pery rolled her eyes, "Well, I am two-and-thirty and he only twenty, after all."

Pery understood, in the noble circle that Dal grew up in, she should have been wed in her teens, and Ben would still be considered a child. At two-and-thirty, had she not defied convention, she would either be facing entry into religious orders had she remained unwed, or been a wife and mother many times over already. And wed to...

She forced her mind away from that line of thought.

The point was, women in her class were expected to wed at an early age so that they could provide as many children to their husbands as they could. In noble circles, Dal was considered old and decrepit, an unsuitable mate for any man. Especially for one who was considered too young to be properly wed.

"And not to mention..." Pery blinked as Dal's voice. She looked at her friend as she shook her head, "Oh never mind. I suppose 'tis a minor thing really." She laughed, "Or perhaps I am simply a coward."

Pery's gaze wandered to Ded, sitting and conversing laughingly with Gaevin and Ben. Sensing her regard, he lifted his gaze to hers and his dimples made an appearance. She blushed and looked away, thinking, 'Then again, perhaps so am I...'


	16. Chapter 15

Iltherian's Sword - Chapter 15

Pery reigned Leaf in at the top of a rise and scowled into the distance. Faintly she could see the blackened skeletal remains of what had once been a small but thriving village. It had been famous for the fine woolen cloth and the deep red dye they made from a fern which could only be grown in this part of Iris. It was from their many fields of the blood-red Nilva ferns that the village received its name, Red Hollow.

And it was here that Perytas decided to call home.

They would have to pass through the village in order to reach her cottage. The state of the village would tell her if anyone had survived at all. She already had a dreadful foreboding.

Pery exchanged a grim look with Ded, who had ridden up beside her, before nudging Leaf into a canter down the rise and back into the forest. The road was good and they were able to maintain a good clip until they reached the village.

Seeing the fire scorched fields that should have been overflowing with brilliant crimson ferns, which fluttered vigorously with the slightest breath of wind, distressed her. It was even worse when she caught sight of blackened skeletons of the houses. She had not known the villagers for long, but they had been both kind and welcoming when Pery had first chosen to live here.

Not one single house had escaped the torch. Pery looked with sad eyes at places she had visited and enjoyed. There–the bakery which had filled the air with the rich scent of mouth watering breads. And here–the weaver's house which had been filled with the sound of clacking looms and gossip of happy women as they wove the fine red wool into cloth. The inn, where the villagers had gathered after a long day of hard work, gossiping and telling tales over pints of ale and the innkeepers wife's good cooking.

She sat atop Leaf and stared around at the blackened remains of the village with something akin to shock. She clamped down on the panicked feeling rising up in her. She wheeled Leaf around and kicked him into a gallop. Thundering hooves behind her told her that the others had turned their steeds and were following.

She reigned Leaf in slightly, since the turn-off was hard enough to see on foot, so it was invisible at a full gallop. It was one of the reasons she had chosen this dale for her home. Leaf knew the way home better than she though and, plunged through a gap in the brush with barely a pause. There was a short ride down a deeply-shadowed, narrow lane before it widened into a large, sunlit glade surrounded on all sides by giant oaks. Some of them were growing so closely together that their branches were twined around each other, forming a solid canopy. A good half of the glade had been plowed under and orderly rows of seedlings danced in the delightful breeze that always seemed present in this glade, even if the air everywhere else was still and dead.

It heartened her that the orderly rows were undisturbed, for in her experience raiders seldom left anything living behind. She was even more cheered when she saw the outbuildings and cottage were untouched. All was still as she rode into the farmyard, however. As she dismounted, the yard was eerily silent; she saw none of the chickens they kept, which would normally be scratching in the dirt looking for food. She felt a prickling along her nape and spine, as if she were being watched.

"Mira!" She called as she trotted for the cottage door. "Phen? Birscha? 'Tis Pery. Are you there?" She lowered her voice to a murmur, "Please, please be here."

Two small figures barreled from the cottage, shouting. "Mama! Mama!"

She dropped to her knees just before her children hit her, both of them wrapping their arms around her throttle tight. Not that she minded, she wrapped her arms around them and squeezed until they squirmed. Relief overwhelmed her when she saw them. She closed her eyes against the sting of unfamiliar tears at seeing her children alive and well, even if their armor and hers was making the embrace more than a little uncomfortable.

She pulled back and looked with approval at the sight of her little ones buckled into their custom-designed armor. There were still a number of years before Mira would be able to wear Pery's old armor. In the meantime, she and Pen wore specially designed armor, which could be adjusted to their growth. Her sharp eyes noted where new dents and nicks marked the armor, and she knew that the armor had been in action recently.

"Great Farran be praised," a voice as dry and crackling as old paper, broke their embrace at last, "you are here."

"Birscha, good to see that you are all well," Pery grasped the old woman's hand.

She quite possibly was the oldest looking person Pery had ever met. She was bent almost double with age and her sparse hair was iron gray, through and through. Brilliant blue eyes stared out of a face so lined with wrinkles there was not a single smooth spot to be seen. She smiled with a toothless mouth, but it was so appealing that one could not help but be charmed by it when she did so. Her hands were as gnarled and knobby as the walking stick they were wrapped around.

Birscha was another one of Pery's "rescues". After a lifetime of service, Birscha had retired and moved in with her son and his new wife. But they died of plague and the lord who owned the land that her son had worked had turned her out onto the streets. She had survived for months on the charity of the Sisters of the Day Star. Still she had been close to starving when Pery found her collapsed in an alley after having been beaten by other street folk for the hard crust of bread that one of the Sisters had allotted her. Pery had taken her back to the cottage where she had installed Phen and Mira their first winter together, had cleaned her up and nursed her back to health. Birscha had never found out that the street folk who had beaten her had mysteriously disappeared and were never seen or heard from again.

She had also given Birscha a home and a new purpose in life. Pery had not felt right about leaving her children alone and even more so when they had moved here. Some of the village women had been scandalized that she had left them alone, though they were, even at their tender age, quite capable of taking care of themselves. One or two of the more abrasive had hinted that it might be better that the children be placed in "a more suitable home." A suggestion which had lit the fire of battle in Pery's eye and she had barely restrained the urge to loose her daggers.

When she had brought Birscha home, she had a twinge of uncertainty that Birscha would not be able to cope with her now rambunctious children. But she reckoned without the elderly woman's iron will and experience, the crafty cunning of the elderly to keep the younger under control. The old woman had more tricks in her bag than a street magician working a festival. Even in those early days, Pery had found herself victim of those tricks as well, although she had not begrudged the old woman because they invariably led to good results. Pery's lips twitched because she was willing to bet that she would have even the elves dancing to her tune by the end of the day.

Pery would have given prayers of thanks to the gods, but no one worshiped the gods anymore. Instead she dropped to her knees again and pulled her children into her arms again. Phen squirmed a bit, complaining that she was holding him too tight. But Mira, being slightly older and a perceptive child besides, was more restrained. She fought to keep her voice even, "I'm so glad you're all safe. When I heard the Hollow had been attacked, I was so scared I wouldn't find you alive."

Even as Mira opened her mouth in answer, there came a crashing through the underbrush from behind the cottage. It sounded rather like bull blundering through the bushes. But it was not, although there were some who disagreed. It was a titan that burst from between the trees, his face fierce and his rather alarming eyebrows pulled together in a thunderous scowl. His eyes burned black under his eyebrows. In his hands was a sword whose blade was as long as he was tall; which was not saying much, a wry, almost amused, part of Pery's mind noted, considering that he was short for a titan, him standing barely seven-and-a-half-feet tall. His hair was a vibrant red, which they could only tell from his goatee and eyebrows, because he was shaved bald.

And he was FAST. He rushed them with a speed surprising in one so large and heavily muscled.

Still, Pery was faster. She raised her crossbow to shoot this creature she assumed was a hostile. She would have shot him too, had Phen not jumped in her path. Mira wrapped her arms around Pery's forearm, pulling her off-balance, "No! Don't!"

Phen, meanwhile, had run right up to the titan and leapt up just as he began raising his sword for a blow. Phen, as slight as he was, did not even phase the titan's strength, but the surprise at seeing Phen dangling three feet off the ground stopped him mid-swing, "No, Kron! That's Pery! Our mama!"

Mira let go of Pery's arm when she motioned for the others to stand down, "That's Kron. Our cottage was the last place attacked. Kron was traveling through the forest and saw what was happening. He drove the attackers off long enough for us to secure Birscha."

Pery bit her lip, knowing that neither of the children had joined their nurse in hiding. She badly wanted to say something, protest at that, but she knew better. Some in the village had disapproved of Pery's teaching fighting to the children, but she knew exactly how cold and unforgiving the world could be and surprise could be an edge used to save one's own life. Phen and Mira might not stand a chance against a full-grown fighter in a one-on-one fight, but at least they had been taught enough tricks that would buy them the time and distance to get away.

The titan shook his head, "I couldn't do anything for the villagers. It was purely by chance that I stumbled onto this place. I'd seen the raiders herding the women and children away from the village. I couldn't help THEM, but these two I could. Although they did a good enough job on their own," He grinned so engagingly that one was immediately struck by his good looks. His mien went solemn as he continued, I've been helping bury the dead."

"You've been burying the dead," Mira corrected, frowning at him. "He won't let us help. He won't even let us go to the village at all."

"Quite right too," Birscha nodded her white head. "No good can come of you seeing such things right now."

Although Pery understood the need of preparing them for the world they would eventually enter. She knew it was a stark, oftentimes cruel place, she approved of how this Kron had shielded them from the reality of it. Better have them know of the reality and save the experience of it for when they were better equipped to deal with it.

"But–," Mira's voice fell silent when she touched the girl's arm.

"I know you want to pay your respects," Pery said quietly, "and the last thing I want is to treat you like a little, but some sights are better not seen until you're much older. You want to remember them as you knew them and not how you would if you were to bury them."

Mira's face crumpled and she buried her face in Pery's bosom, while the others looked away, pretending not to see the girl's loss of control. Phen was already acting like a little man, presenting a stoicism to the world that she knew he didn't have. He would come to her later, she knew, but for now she would let him act the man.

She allowed the others to deal with the horses and their gear, while Kron, Nevi and Bobcat along with her family went into the cottage and spoke of the raid.


	17. Chapter 16

Iltherian's Sword - Chapter 16

As raids went, it was standard stuff. A large group of heavily-armed raiders had swept through the village. They had raped, looted and burned what was left over. They plundered the crops and winter storage, stole even the red dyes and set the fern fields alight. After killing all the men, young and old, the elderly and nursing infants–both Pery and Nevi winced at that–they had herded the remaining off, probably headed for the slave block or brothel or slavery to the bandits themselves. All more-or-less normal raider patterns.

There had, however, been a couple things that had Kron noticed, "They had weapons and armor that were much too good for your typical bandit. I have seen well-armed banditry before, but they usually run to a hodge-podge of armor, rather than matching pieces more suited to a standing armor. They were also surprisingly well-organized."

Pery could see Bobcat frown through her mask, "And the other?"

Kron's face became exceptionally grim, "Most of the outlaws were half-breeds. Some more obviously half than others, but a majority of them were."

Nevi and Bobcat both questioned him keenly: his story would become part of their report. After a while, they left to take their report to the Masters. Nevi promised Pery that she would secure lodgings for her little family in Randol.

Pery nodded and thanked her, "Expect us in a few days. There are things I don't wish to leave behind. It'll take us at least that long to pack them up."

She had some contacts in Dratan who could arrange temporary lodgings for them. So she settled down with her family, making a list of things they would take with them. The cottage may have seemed tiny from the outside, but it was a bit larger than one supposed. They came up with a list that was more lengthy than she thought and she ruthlessly whittled the list down until she was certain it would all fit into their wagon. All the things that she cut out were things easily replaceable in Dratan, she assured her anxious family. No treasured possession or keepsake would be left behind. But still, she herself might have sighed silently as she scratched out an item or two.

She got up when Birscha marshaled the children to make the evening meal and enlisted the willing aid of Toris, who appeared highly amused at being ordered about like a little by a woman who he outstripped in age by several centuries. Through the open top-half of the front door, she could see Kron, Ben and Dal talking as they tended their weapons, a reminder that she needed to check the state of not only her own, but the children's gear as well.

She wandered down a short, dim hallway, past the pantry and cold room, to her favorite room in the cottage, her very own study. Neither the cold room or the library had been a part of the original cottage, but an extravagance she had had added when she added the cold room. The additions had set off village tittering, of course.

Cold rooms were for apothecaries, not rogues who only stayed home during winters. No one else in the village, except for the apothecary, boasted one of those rooms. Pery had found other uses for the cold room besides storing herbs and potions, although she did store her medicinals here. She had found storing perishables here made them last longer.

As to the other room...no one knew what the room had been meant for and Pery had not shared her intentions. But they had been shocked when she had imported costly clear glass for the windows. The rest of the cottage had the usual animal skins scraped paper-thin set in their panes. She knew that they would be even more shocked to know that she had planned on systematically replaced most of the animal skin with glass. She had, in fact, replaced about a quarter of the windows with glass. She sighed, it went against her thrifty nature just leave it behind; maybe she would come back from time to time and salvage what she could.

This room, more than any other in the entire cottage, bore the strongest touch of her hand than any other. The large windows let in the most light and the chairs and couches were strategically placed around and under them, offering perfect perches for readers. A cozy grouping of battered animal skin-draped chairs hinted at its winter use. Here too was a place for work: her own desk, along with two smaller writing desks for her children and a small work table arranged near it.

Lining the walls were a number of freestanding bookshelves, tall and narrow, which Pery had built in Merac Caron and brought to the cottage when she could. Only half were filled. There were hundreds of books here, close to a thousand, not including the books she still had in storage in Dratan. Her taste was eclectic; books on languages, philosophy, history, novels and poetry lined the shelves. There were primers and children's books from which she herself had learned and the ones she had taught her children their letters. It was not the largest library in Merac–that honor belonged to the Academy, of course–but it was probably the largest personal collection. And definitely the largest owned by a woman.

Even in this modern age, while women of the upper and merchant classes were taught reading and writing, they usually only learned enough to manage household accounts so they would not be cheated by merchants and to manage the household when their husbands were away. But none were encouraged to excel at it, and were even given the impression that it was not attractive, so most of these women barely knew how to write their names. Women of the working classes were largely unlettered, which made Pery fiercely proud of her and her children's accomplishments in that regard.

Pery realized that they had been extremely lucky that their place had gone undiscovered. Only the most uncouth would not recognize the worth of her library. Not in terms of knowledge, although there was certainly that, but of the monetary gains which could be realized. Books were rare, costly things–handwritten and many were in themselves works of art. While the most valuable slave–a virgin of either sex destined for a brothel in one of the large cities–could fetch twenty gold or more on the block, it paled at how much a single slim volume of poetry could be sold for. She had books in her collection which were worth twenty times what a good slave could realize. Even the most battered of the children's primers could have kept a farmer and his family well-fed, clothed and housed for six months or more.

She found the room occupied. It startled her a bit at finding anyone not her family engrossed with the contents of these shelves. Gaevin was here, his silvery head bend over the illuminated pages of an ancient Book of Days from the time when the gods were still worshiped in Iris. The sisters were engrossed in, if memory served, in a pair of rather lurid romances that the scrivener had been horrified at selling to her. He would have refused outright has she not casually dropped a hand to the butt of her crossbow as she examined a book she pretended had caught her eye; she had long since discovered that the usual scholarly types rarely refused if one was bristling with weapons. Not that she would ever use any of them on someone who refused to sell to her, but they did not know that and that was the point.

Her heart jumped at the sight of Ded, hands on hips and heat tilted back scanning the titles lining a top shelf. He reached up, plucking a slim volume from the shelf, a look of delight on his face. She watched him read for a few minutes and was startled when he lifted his head and their eyes met. His sudden smile was both a delight and dread to her.

He held the book up for her to see: A book of poetry by Cloris of Serra. He grinned, "This is my mother's favorite poet. But she does not have this one."

"One of his early works, I believe," she grinned back. "Before he became popular. It's difficult to find; if you like, I can have a copy made for her."

He gave her a delighted smile and they bent their heads over the volume together.

Pery woke in the early hours of the morning as a small form crept into her bed. As Phen curled up against her, she silently put her arms around him. As if that were a signal, he first began trembling violently, breaking into a great flood of tears. She held him as the storm of his tears broke over him, eventually dwindling to a trickle, then as the occasional heaving breath subsided into the deep breathing of an exhausted sleep.

Later still Mira too crept into the bed, curling up on her other side. Although she did not cry as her brother had, she had needed as much comfort as Phen had.

The others in the house had obviously heard Phen's crying in the night. Dedrick propped himself up on his elbow and stared up at the ceiling, an unreadable expression on his face. He looked across the room and met his cousin's gaze, their eyes sharing the terrible knowledge at the loss of innocence at too early an age.

Star had her arms around Crystal, who, overcome at the tearing anguish to be heard in the childish crying coming from above, was weeping quietly against her sister's shoulder. All the elves lay, their eyes open and glistening in the dying light of the fire, their faces as expressionless as those of marble statues. In the corner, Kron sat, his eyes glittering fiercely and his face set with a stoic rage which was more frightening somehow than if his face had been a rictus of anger.

Dedrick dropped back down, threw an arm over his eyes and tried shutting out the grief of a little boy. A grief he could not do anything about even if he wanted to.


	18. Chapter 17

Iltherian's Sword - 18 - Chapter 17

The children were not what he expected. Of course, he had not really known what he had expected. A son and daughter yes. Perhaps a pair of unruly urchins like his brothers and sisters had been presenting to the world for years now.

Mira was taller for most girls her age. Though he knew her to be of common lineage, she had surprisingly refined features that one normally associated with the higher classes. She had an abundant head of mahogany hair, great hazel eyes fringed with thick black lashes. A very pretty child, he could tell from her bone structure that she would grow into a great beauty.

Phen was, if anything, even prettier than his sister. His bone structure was very close to his sister's with the same color eyes, and one could plainly see the family resemblance. However, he had pale, creamy skin, darker hair, and thicker lashes than his sister. Ded did not wonder that he would have been plucked up by slavers and knew that he would have created a furor amongst the whoremongers. He would, Ded was certain, cause devastation amongst the female set when he was grown.

Both of them were much more mature than he would expect for their age. But then, he had grown up in a stable home, surrounded by family and having a place even should his parents leave the world in an untimely fashion. Although Ded knew the ways of the world by now, he still could barely imagine the privation they must have suffered through after their family died and they had been cast into the streets. And he could only think how lucky they must have been that Pery had discovered them before anyone else had. He found, even on such short acquaintance, that he rather liked them. For those who had been cast out to fend for themselves, he found them likeable and friendly. He had, on occasion, had truck with a number of street urchins and had found them deeply suspicious and untrustworthy, but the siblings were not like them in the least.

Pery had told them, as they were coming here, that the children had not known how long they had been on the streets, from time to time banding together with other street children for survival, but most of the time on their own because they had resisted the pressure to join some older children who lived and worked in gangs and who relied on stealing and pickpocketing to live. However, Mira remembered her parents and Pery had found the record of their parent's deaths, and discovered that the children had been on the streets for nearly two years. For all that, Pery had done a good job of giving them a sense of home and stability that allowed them to lose the closed, suspiciousness that most street urchins gathered about them like tattered shreds of an old cloak.

That, and the influence of old Birscha.

Now Birscha he had instantly adored. Old, wily and cantankerous, she reminded him forcefully of his own beloved great-grandmother. He could even see shades of his old nurse in there somewhere. He grinned, because she treated him just as his great-grandmother had. And he was certain that she was just as old as that venerable old lady. He was sure that if they ever met, that they would get along like a house on fire.

It had rather amused him that she ordered all them about with equal disregard for their supposed station. It was even funnier when one realized that they all followed those orders with no demure, as if she had every right to do so.

"Of course I do what she says," Kron looked at him an amazed look on his face, "I've seen what kind of damage she can do with that stick of hers."

It was surprising the amount of things one could accumulate in a few short years and in one tiny cottage. Pery had lived a rather Spartan existence but even in her own room were a number of small personal items that needed to be packed up for the move. Even these had to be sifted through, to be left behind or added to the small store that was to be taken with them. So they carefully wrapped up crates of books and knick knacks and things the family would need to start over. By nightfall all the small personal items and some of the small furniture had been loaded onto the wagon and the next day all the large furniture which the family decided they needed.

That night, Pery and her children were in her room before going to bed. Phen and Mira were snuggled up against the headboard watching Pery sifting through a box of odds and ends.

"You like them a lot, don't you, Mama?" Phen asked abruptly.

Pery paused in her task, looking with surprise at her son, "Yes, I do. No more or less than anyone else I suppose."

"No, you really like them, "Mira added, shaking her head. "We can tell."

"Oh so?" Pery was amused and didn't bother to show it, "How can you tell?"

"Mama! We're being serious here!" Mira scolded and immediately ruined the effect by sticking her tongue out at Pery. "We know. Because you're not wearing your mask when you're around them. Even Kron."

Pery blinked and stared at her daughter, "What?"

Phen was nodding, "If you didn't like and trust them, you'd be wearing your mask around them."

"Yes, yes. Remember you told me that you liked Mistress Rei best of all the villagers. But even when she came here to visit, you never took off your mask."

She blinked, staring at her daughter who was giving her what she considered a rather shirty grin. Still she was forced to examine what Mira said. She came to the conclusion that her daughter was right. She had never felt so comfortable as she was than with these people. She had not felt the need to hide one with them, not even the addition of Kron had changed this.

"Huh. You're right," she grinned at her children, who returned the expression.

"Don't worry," Phen said his grin went sly.

"We won't tell," Mira put a shushing finger to her mouth.

"I'm counting on you," she winked and threw herself on the bed and burst into giggles with her children.

The last of the items were loaded into the wagon by midmorning. Birsch and the children spent a few minutes saying goodbye to the place they had made a home. Then they climbed into the wagon and did not look back when Kron drove them away, the others following solemnly.

Pery had not mounted to follow the others. Instead she handed Leaf's reigns to Ded, who had mounted but not ridden away with the others. He nodded, turned his BrightSpot and led Leaf away.

Pery turned back to the cottage and the glade. She ran her eyes over this well-loved place, setting it in her memory. There was some quality in the way the light played over the tops of the trees and fell on that garden that made her say, "It wasn't quite chance that led me here, was it? You called me, didn't you?" She smiled, because a little breeze had kicked up, teasing the ends of her hair. It was warm and gentle and felt no less than an embrace, "I don't know if you were calling me specifically or just someone in general, but I thank you for giving my family a place to be safe and at peace."

It had been no coincidence that the cottage had been found last, she now knew. And no trick of chance that Kron had come and drove off the last of the stragglers. Whatever existed here had done its best to hide the cottage from the raiders, and had called a defender to do what it could not.

She looked again with a heart newly filled with wonder at the magic which lived in the world. The old gods might now be shunned, but there were beings much older that walked the lands still. And the being who had sheltered her family these last few years was one of these she was sure.

She turned her hands in at her was and bowed in profound respect. Then she turned and left the glade behind without a backward glance.

Ded sighed silently to himself as Pery rejoined them. Gone was the Pery he had enjoyed getting to know over the last few days–the mother, the granddaughter, the young woman who while vulnerable was also strangely strong–replaced by the determined ranger. Which is not to say that he liked this side any less, but he much preferred the other.

It was inevitable, he supposed, since he sensed there were reasons she closed herself off from others. But it would have been nice if she had left the mask off for another day or two.

'But at least I can tell Aurhin that she quite worth looking at,' the thought bringing such a sparkle to his eyes that Pery could not help but notice.

They arrived in Merac Caron, after a thankfully uneventful journey though the countryside. They installed themselves in the inn to wait for Ded to journey to the Academy and go about replenishing their supplies.

Pery and her little family spent their days discussing where they would live next. Juno was all fine and good temporarily, but for Pery it was a little too tame for her tastes. They did agree that they would be returning to Merac, but at the moment could not think about where they would live. Once things settled down a bit, then they could think about where they should go. So they decided to go to Dratan for a little while, Pery would cancel the lodgings that Nevi promised in Juno. Pery had some assets available to her in Dratan castle town that would allow her family to live well while they decided where to go.

After a week, Ded returned from the Academy with their payment and the news that their little adventure was not over. His brother had not been pleased with the new addition to their party, but had not quibbled too much over it. Even the Masters had been growing increasingly excited about each new find and had not protested the cost.

"So it is off to Dratan this time," he told them. He spread a map on the table in front of them. "If I can figure out this map. Supposedly it is of Dratan but I recognize none of the landmarks."

"Well you would think that you brother would have figured this out for you," Pery lips had a wry twist. Still the map was remarkably well-done. A modern copy drawn from the original. Even the script was in the Old Tongue–a language that had not been a living, spoken language for over 3000 years.

"This is the Great Boneyard," Mira said unexpectedly, putting her finger on a section of the map.

Pery blinked, frowning down at where she was pointing and realized that it did indeed show a tiny picture of bones rising from the sand, looking exactly like the mammoth remains that were scattered around the region. Then she blinked, because she realized that she actually understood the script. She was reading the Old Tongue. She said not a word about this but instead pointed to a tiny picture of a tower, "Here, this is Prokion."

Mira had been digging in her bag, "Compare it to a modern map..."

They all bent over the maps. The map was old, but they were able to figure out where they had to go.

Mira crossed her arms, staring at the new map of Dratan, and the place where they had marked, and rested her chin on them. She had a slightly discontented on her face, "I wish I could go with you."

Pery smiled, placing a hand on her little girl's head, "You'll be coming out with me soon enough. And going out on your own, too. Besides," she grinned, so that it could be seen though the mask, "you haven't needed to go with me to have adventures of your own, have you?"

Phen broke into raucous laughter when Mira leapt to her feet and exclaimed, her cheeks pink, "How did you know?"

"I have my ways," Ded could see the mischievous gleam in Pery's eyes.

"You told her!" Mira rounded on her brother and he laughed throwing up his hands, shaking his head vehemently.

"No he didn't," Pery laughed, a free unrestrained sound that was rare for her. "What kind of rogue would I be if I couldn't find out whatever I wanted to know?"

Mira dropped back into her chair and muttered, "Sometimes you're not fair, Mama."

She blushed furiously when all the adults and Phen burst into gales of laughter.


	19. Chapter 18

Iltherian's Sword - 19 - Chapter 18

A tall, silent figure slid silently into the shadows of the tent. The two women who were the current occupants of the tent, did not seem to notice his arrival at all. If they did, they did not acknowledge him. Indeed they were lounging on couches piled with cushions and furs, sipping from golden goblets crusted with precious stones whose contents were kept filled by a tall slave girl, who was pale with fear and whose right cheek bore an angry red welt. Another slave stood with a platter weighted down with cheese and fruit and meat pies.

The man eyed the two slaves curiously. He found, oddly enough, that he could feel a kind of disinterested pity for the slave girls. None of the girls who served in the camp were treated with any kind of regard. The women treated them with slaps and kicks when they were displeased and indifference when they were not. And the men with even less regard, seeing them as convenient vessels to sate their lusts. It was no wonder that so many of them had run away. Even with the threat of being hunted down like sport animals, most of them chose death to remaining.

Abruptly, he dismissed these thoughts from his head as he said quietly, "Lady."

The shorter of the two started, then tumbled backward away from him to her feet, a pair of crackling blades in her hands. The taller laid a restraining hand on the other's wrist, a slight smile playing on her full lips, "Ah, General, I see you have returned unharmed. Is it done?"

"Of course. It is as you wished," the general bowed. "As you anticipated, the Masters have started taking action. So it was easy enough to put your plans in motion."

"Excellent, excellent," Lady turned to the shorter woman. "Damarie, I release you for tonight. Return to me in the morn. I have plans I wish to discuss with you."

Damarie had sheathed her blades when Lady had reacted with nonchalance at the General's sudden, silent arrival. She knew who he was, of course. The entire army knew who he was, but she had also known who he was before he had been recruited. A rogue, an assassin, who was known only as Murderer. Ruthless and highly skilled, his reputation was such that he was highly sought after by rich merchants, clans and the ruling classes. The mere mention of his name was intimidation enough; the thought that he might come after them had even some of the most powerful of men breaking into a cold sweat.

She studied him while he spoke with Lady. Taller and slender, but still powerfully built, he moved with the sinuous grace characteristic of most rogues. He was quite handsome in a strangely exotic way, he was tanned, a golden color owing more to his heritage than exposure to the sun. Eyes as intense as a fire and black as jet burned even in the darkened tent. A long black braid swung from a topknot down to his waist.

She found him quite attractive, but wondered if bedding him it were worth it . She had no doubt that she could seduce him; sex and seduction were the skills she was best at after all. While she liked a handsome man well enough, it was a man's power and what he could do for her that truly aroused her. She may have been power-hungry, but she was not stupid either. She knew this man could give her what she craved. But she also sensed that he was no one to be crossed, in bed or out. Still, no use in wasting an opportunity, so she gave him a flirtatious look through her hennaed lashes and a coy smile as she sashayed by him. Although possessed of an iron will, he was a man nonetheless, and he gave her backside a look of pure masculine approval.

"Ah, yes, there was something I wish for you to do, General," Lady's voice brought him back to business.

"I live to serve, Lady," he bowed to her, giving her his full attention.

"Worry not, General," she chuckled, a rich throaty sound which filled the tent, "I am sure that you will find these orders quite easy to fulfill."


End file.
